Tears of Fate
by Word of War
Summary: "I am the sorrow that weeps over loss and the happiness that cries out of joy. I am the daughter of those tears." Twists in fate carry a Dalish elf to the Inquisition where she becomes a hero that is needed, all in the name of saving all she can from chaos and destruction that weeps from the sky. Solas x Lavellan fic.
1. Chapter 1

Tears of Fate

The bark bit into her back in some areas. Sharp like thorns, the old tree's defense against the elements and intruders that would do it harm. She leaned against the trunk, legs tucked underneath her in a squat. The muscles tightened and clenched beyond comfort as she waited patiently, years of discipline and practice keeping her in an ethereal stillness that challenged even the rocks' skill. As a gust of wind danced through the branches of her perch, she pitched herself forward, holding herself up with her hands, the bark brushing her fingertips with the strength and harshness of granite and a gentle caress of water.

The tiniest of noises finally reached her ears. A snap of a twig to the left of her gentle friend. With movements unnaturally slow giving her the gracefulness many dreamed of having, she reached for the bow slung across her back. Silence and the wind were the only things you could hear as she took ahold of her bow and brought it to bear, pulling an arrow with the same grace.

Another twig snapped, brought again by the new stranger in the woods. As it drew closer, sounds of soft thumps where it stepped reached her along with the sound of leaves crushed under a heavy weight.

The predator hiding in the trees drew her bow, the bowstring creaking softly at the tension. _One more step_, she thought as her prey finally made its way into a clearing small enough for her to take a shot. _Almost there..._ and then a sudden release sent her arrow flying through the air, shattering the silence, to its mark. The sound of the arrow didn't reach the beast until the pain had already began.

She was an expert hunter, yet the arrow had brushed only lightly against a twig of a branch, deflecting it just enough to keep the arrow from killing the animal.

Its screams of both pain and terror echoed sharply through the once silent forest. Birds scattered from the peaceful perches in the trees, snapping twigs, knocking loose leaves, and adding more noise to the chaos.

"Fenedhis!" she hissed, slinging her bow across her back with carelessness as compared to the grace she had used to retrieve it. Swinging her legs off of the branch, she hung from it for a second before dropping to the ground, her companion softly scrapping her hands in a goodbye.

The hunter ran halfway to the deer that lay thrashing on the ground, kicking violently and whipping its head side to side franticly. _You are only making it harder on yourself friend,_ she thought sadly, willing it to understand and stop moving as she finished her approach in a soft crouch, hand extended, trying to look as little and less menacing as she could.

Its breathing was labored, and blood was softly trickling from its nostrils. The arrow protruded from the neck. The hunter's guess was that she had hit the spine, keeping it from standing, yet allowing it to kick about. As she grew closer and closer, the deer began to stay still, yet its breathing grew quicker and shallower, its sides heaving and convulsing with each breath.

Terror. That was the only thing she could see in its eyes as she reached out to stroke it's pelt. She could feel the tremors of fear and pain echoing through every limb of the animal. A sadness came over the hunter. Not over the fact that it was going to die, she had been the one to loose an arrow at it with the full intent of killing it. No, she was sad over the fact that she had caused this animal suffering. She had intended to take its life quickly. It did not deserve this pain.

"Ir abelas. Ir abelas, da'len," _I am sorry. I am sorry, child,_ she cooed softly to the deer, her hand already having a firm grip on one of the daggers sheathed to her belt. In one fluid movement, she took the blade and rammed it into the deer's skull. The pain and suffering of one of the children of this century old forest finally ended.

Pulling the dagger from the deers lifeless body, the hunter wiped it clean and sheathed it while retrieving her pack. She tied the animals legs together with the rope she carried with the rest of her supplies before trying her hand at removing the arrow intact, which she managed to successfully do. Placing the arrow once more in her quiver, an old rag wrapped around it to keep it from damaging her leather quiver, she knelt down beside the deer and hauled it onto her shoulders, holding onto its legs in either hand to keep it from sliding down her back.

_If you had been any larger my friend, _she thought as she slowly made the her way back home,_ I would not be able to carry you and you would have no doubt have been found by the wolves before I could come back with assistance._

The going was slow, as the hunter walked with carefully thought out steps, not wishing to stumble. Her prize was heavy and cumbersome and she would hate to fall and have it land on her. _This should be enough food for the children,_ she calculated. _Hopefully the other hunters claimed larger prizes than mine._

Birds once more returned to the trees, singing their songs softly, a melody for the hunter, as she made her way through the forest with confidence you could rarely find in any soul in such a place. Occasionally she would stop and readjust the deer's body on her shoulders. It was going to be a long journey for her.

~~.O.~~

"The mighty hunter returns!" exclaims a friendly voice. "And with her prey no less! I thought the point of hunting was to let your catch go," he teased, vibrant smile lighting up his features.

"One time. One time I don't come back with something and I never hear the end of it," she responds, rolling her eyes. She takes a few more steps forward before saying, "Perhaps instead of standing there dumbfounded that I was successful, Arthel," she said playfully, "you could actually assist me in carrying it back to the Clan."

"Anything for you lethallan," he smirked before coming up beside her. And rather than simply help her carry it, he plucked the deer from her shoulders and onto his own, laughing off his friend's protests and continuing with her to Clan Lavellan.

The two Dalish elves made their way home, chatting with one another. Arthel filled her in on what had happened in the Clan since she left in the morning to go hunting. Apparently the Keeper was acting strangely. "She's had a grim look on her face for a while now," he explained, "but today was even worse. She has even made the First do menial tasks just so that she could be alone with her thoughts."

"I doubt that Esholen enjoyed that," the hunter replied flatly. It was well known to her clansmen that Esholen did not care for the hunter and would often go out of her way to make things more difficult for the hunter any chance she could get. Despite her many attempts though, she could never get a response, not even harsh words or denouncement. That only infuriated Esholen more, fueling the one sided feud she carried on.

Arthel chuckled at the uncaring tone his friend had taken. "No she did not." He grunted softly as he adjusted the deer on his shoulders. "I worry about Keeper Maleenain though," he continued, "it is not like her to act this way, to carry her worry so obviously." He turned to his friend and saw her nod in agreement, but she offered no guesses as to what might have the Keeper so worried.

But she knew what was weighing so heavily on the Keepers mind. Visits with the humans they passed on their travels revealed that all of Thedas was caught in a conflict. A conflict between the mages and templars. The thought of it made her uneasy. _If either side claimed victory, there would be heavy losses,_ she was lost in thought. _There would be a loss of precious things such as life and knowledge, either if the templars are wiped out or the mages. Neither sides victory would truly be a victory, and its consequences would change everything, even for us._ There was hope though, her time with the humans had revealed that, Divine Justinia, the leader of the humans' religion, was holding a conclave in the hope to broker some peace between the two warring factions, if only for a short time. That much she had informed Keeper Maleenain about. Though the Keeper was not condoning the hunter's wanderings with humans or would even mention the fact that the young elf would often make her way to villages and taverns they passed on their travels to gain information on the world outside of her clan or to learn something new, whether it was a skill, a song, cooking, or a new fighting style, the Keeper still saw the value in what her hunter was doing and would often have a private meeting so that any information that was important could be conveyed. A war between mages and templars and a conclave to make an attempt at peace was a very important piece of information.

"...Numina? Did you hear what I said?" Arthel said, finally breaking her lost-in-thought trance.

Numina blinked rapidly, lightly shaking her head as if to discard her ponderings from her mind. "Abelas, lethallin," she said. "I was lost in my thoughts." Numina offered him an apologetic smile.

"I had asked if anything you heard from the shemlen could tell us what the Keeper is worried about."

Looking ahead to their path rather than at Arthel she responded coldly, "I have no idea what you're talking about." The Keeper didn't ever openly acknowledge the fact that Numina spent time with the humans, but that was one of the conditions in order for Numina to be allowed to continue. There must be no mention of it to any others of the clan. She was not to discuss it, hint at it, or acknowledge it. These were the terms Keeper Maleenian and Numina had both agreed to.

"Don't play the fool, Numina," Arthel bit back. "You and Keeper Maleenian dance around it and claim ignorance, but none of us are fools. Everyone in the clan knows about your little adventures. There is a reason why Esholen and her followers call you heretic and halfbreeder behind your back." Numina winced at his mention of the only two insults Esholen said that truly bothered her. She had never expected Arthel to say them, even in explanation. "Mind you, only those who dote on Esholen ever usher those insults in whispers, none of the other clan members see you that. There used to be fear towards your visits with the shemlen when they first started years ago, but that has faded since there has only been evidence as to why that fear is unfounded."

Numina looked at her friend. She knew all of this already. She had seen in the clan members faces and heard the whispers. As the years went on, the fear left, and the whispers turned in to subtle jokes between her and the elders and those her age. "There is something happening Arthel, something we-" At that moment, Arthel and Numina made their way through the foliage barrier surrounding their camp. The soft laughter from the children and indistinct conversations reached them unhindered. But that isn't what interrupted Numina.

It was Esholen. "Arthel! There you are!" she said breathlessly with a toothy smile. There was no way to miss that she favored Arthel above all others. And why wouldn't she? He was a very handsome elf. Slightly tan skin, luscious black hair, and stunning blue eyes. He carried himself with the honor he had as a warrior. In fact, he was held as one of the most skilled among the Dalish. He was kind, respectful, intelligent... Arthel was sought out by all of the females in the camp. Except for Numina. If she sought out Arthel, it was for friendly conversation, to tease him from something earlier, or for support if she was having a tough time dealing with Esholen and the ones that followed her hoping to gain her attention and favor the way Arthel had.

Numina rolled her eyes at Arthel, and he had to stifle a laugh as the Keeper's First approached.

"I was not aware the greatest of the Dalish warriors had changed his profession to hunting," Esholen continued, blatantly ignoring Numina. "Though with your prowess in all things, it is not surprising that you would bear success so quickly," she motion to the deer that Arthel was still carrying on his shoulders. The First knew that the one who had killed the deer was Numina. It was her way of of being insultive without having to do so with obvious insults.

"I don't think you're laying it on thick enough,Esholen," Numina said with a snicker. "Perhaps you should try harder." Her eyes narrowed, taunting the Keeper's apprentice. Arthel couldn't help but chuckle at his friend's words, despite himself.

Esholen's cheeks burned with either embarrassment or anger, but Numina guessed it was both. A sneer turned Esholen's features harsh. "I don't believe I was talking to you, halfbreeder. Leave us so we don't have to smell the shemlen stench that clings to you from giving yourself away to them."

_That hurt,_ Numina admitted to herself, but she has had to deal with Esholen every day. A blank face and no emotion is all it took to go on as if she hadn't said anything at all. This is what Numina did once more as she addressed Esholen, "Ma nuvenin," _as you wish_. She then turned to Arleth, "Would you like me to take it from here?" she asked, motioning to the deer.

"I can do it, Numina," Arleth answered, trying hard not to display his anger towards Esholen and her insults. "After all you are the only one here that could command my attention. Without you, there is nothing."

Numina wanted to sing praise at Arleth's tactful retribution, but she had to keep up her façade, "Ma serannas, lethallin," she bowed her head before both she and Arleth departed, heading for separate areas of the camp. It was difficult for Numina to remain stoic when she caught a glimpse of Esholen's furious and dumbfounded face.

~~.O.~~

The few that were even brave enough to whisper it called Numina a heretic because of one thing. A slip up on Numina's behalf. A moment of weakness. It is because of this and that she is no mage, that some believe she is not the Keeper's First "as she should be" some whisper louder than those that claim she is a heretic. But that is not the case. _I am not the First because I am too valuable. _Numina is an expert marksman, a skilled rogue in bow and daggers alike, and a fine swordsman when the need is great. She is graceful in words, tact, and movements. She is well accustomed to working with humans and speaking with them without stumbling over her words and looking like a fool (though it took some work to get there). Despite being Dalish, Numina is very well read. She would often trade things she had found or made in her travels for books among the humans. And she is knowledgeable in the Elvhen. Those that know her well, Arleth and Keeper Maleenain, know that she has information that surpasses most of the Keepers of the Dalish. And to gain knowledge you must be sharp, smart, and logical. These three things have also added to her "title" as heretic.

Numina is too valuable. If she were to be the Keeper's First then she wouldn't be able to do the things necessary of her that put her life in peril at times. When rumors come from other clans or from shemeln of elvish ruins, Keeper Maleenain sends Numina to investigate. Her skills and knowledge come in handy if there are malevolent beings inhabiting the ruins, allowing her to easily take care of them. If there are rituals to perform, Numina can solve them where others would be stuck at a locked door. Scouring ruins for lost information, finding it, and understanding it were her speciality. All because of a fact known only to her and the Keeper. Numina was a mage.

"Greetings, brothers and sisters," Keeper Maleenain said. She stood in the front of the clan, all of whom were seated. Keeper Maleenain was an elderly woman with hair aged so much that it had turned white. Her robes were old, nearly ancient, and hung to her skin tightly. She had a commanding voice that deserved respect, yet it was always soft and gentle. "Thank you for taking time out of your evening for this meeting. I know that some of you are very busy preparing for the coming planting season, but this is an important matter." The hushed whispers between the clan members were suddenly silenced. Numina glanced around the gathering, taking in some of the faces of her friends and elders. She took notice that Esholen was seated as close to the Keeper as could be. She then turned to Arleth seated next to her and motioned to Esholen. He let out a soft snort before rolling his eyes and shaking his head humorously. Numina smiled, and returned her attention to Keeper Maleenain. "...there is something that the People cannot ignore, even if it does not involve us directly." The Keepers soft brown eyes scanned the silenced group. They settled on Numina briefly before she finally continued. "The mages of the Circles are rebelling against the Templars. It is a war that could affect all of us and so we cannot ignore it." _Oh no,_ Numina thought quietly, she could already see the disbelief and restlessness among her clanmates. "The Divine Justinia is holding a conclave in Haven with the leaders of the two factions. What happens there will effect all of us, so I propose that we send one of our own to see the outcome of these negotiations." Silence fell on the rest of the clan.

Finally, one of the elders said something. "You mean as a spy for the Dalish."

"Yes," Keeper Maleenain answered. "That is what they would be, but not what they are. They would be one of us representing the concern that the Dalish have."

"But why should we be concerned!" One of the young hunters exclaimed, and that set off an avalanche of exclamations, questions, and arguments. The small gathering of elves quickly became a roar most deafening. Numina looked to Arleth for some idea as to what to do, but he shook his head once he met her eyes. He was as confused as she was.

The voices of her friends and family were overlapping one on top of the other. The main consensus was: why should we care, let shemlen take care of it, it is none of our business, how do we even know if that's what is happening, and Esholen's you can't trust what the heretic tells you Keeper.

Something came over Numina. She felt nervous at first, a tightening in her stomach that moved it's way to her heart, causing it to race. Finally it forced her to act. She rose to her feet, almost in slow motion, with a grace not even another Dalish could match.

"I will go."

Voices began hushing one another as all eyes began to turn towards Numina. Those that were standing slowly seated themselves once more, as if shrinking away from her. And she was a sight to behold. She had soft features and unusually pale skin for a Dalish. She was slight in build, like most Dalish, yet she carried herself as though she had the strength of a great warrior (and she did). Her light blond hair cascaded down past her back. It looked like starlight as the suns dying light of the evening light touched it and even more so beneath the moon. Her eyes burned with fierce determination. Her eyes were near white ice in her center iris growing a light blue before merging into a pale green. Some considered her to be the picture of what all Elvhen looked like. She had a fairness you only heard in the old legends of what the People used to be before their fall and before the Quickening.

"I will go," she said louder, her determination echoing across the once more silenced group. All stared at her in awe and shock. Esholen more so than most. Arleth looked at her differently though. Pain and sorrow were etched in his features and in his eyes. _No, no, no, no, NO..._ he thought to himself. There was a pain in his heart as he looked at his friend. It was no secret that all the female elves in Clan Lavellan vied for his attention and favor. But the only one he ever wanted to gain attention of was Numina.

"I will go to the conclave," Numina repeated once more, and before any voice of disagreement could raise, "I mean no offense, but no one else here has my level of skill, tact, and experience in dealing with shemlen." She surveyed the crowd, noticing that almost everyone was nodding in agreement with what she had said. Her eyes finally meet Arleth's, and she could see and feel his pain and sorrow. _Oh my dear, sweet Arleth... Ir abelas, lethaliln... _"Of course, I won't leave without your permission...or your blessing Keeper Maleenain," she finished with a bow of her head.

"And you will have da'len. Along with any aid we can offer you." The keeper returned her bow with a slight bow of her own. "May the Creators watch over you Numina."

The next few days of preparing were a blur for Numina. Goodbyes were numerous and all of the elders wanted to give her some final pieces of advice. Time seemed to speed up for her. Before she knew it, it was time for her to depart.

Numina's clan members lined themselves on either side of a old, well worn path that ultimately headed in the direction she needed to go to reach Kirkwall to take a ship. As she walked, well wishes on saddened faces were given to her. Soft hands brushed against her arms, shoulders, and the pack she wore as her clan softly reached out to her, saying a final goodbye with their fingers and honoring her as someone who belonged with them. _No, my family, that is what this clan is to me. My family is what all these faces have become_ Numina thought calmly. Esholen was there, towards the middle of the procession, and surprisingly enough, she offered a small nod in respect, saying "Mythal watch over you, lethallan," as many others in the clan were. Such prayers were offered on her behalf, invoking Mythal for protection and Andruil to guide her arrows. Some even invoked Fen'Harel, the Dread Wolf, praying that he would not hear Numina's steps. _Such is our view of Fen'Harel_, Numina thought coldly._ After all, we only have one view on our Creators. No interpretation other than face value._

There was one face she didn't see amongst her clan members: Arleth. A sudden pain tore at her heart. Of all the people in her clan, he was the one she had wanted to see one last time and say goodbye to. Her sadness was buried for the moment, as she had finally made it to the Keeper, the last of her clan to say goodbye.

"It isn't much," the old woman said with a small smile, "but hopefully it will be enough." Keeper Maleenain handed her a small pouch. Numina could tell by the sounds it made when it moved that it was filled with coin, perhaps all the coin the clan had from trading with shemlen on rare accounts.

"I cannot accept this," Numina exclaimed breathlessly.

"You can and you will," The Keeper said commandingly. "You will need it." Numina nodded her head in consent, tucking the pouch away safely in her Dalish leather armor. "We are very proud of you, Numina," the Keeper continued. "A final piece of advice, if I may: do not fall to pride in your journeys, for the Dalish have already done so."

Numina nodded in agreement _Tel garas solasan in na vhenan. Come not to a prideful place in your heart_, she silently translated in her head before continuing. "Ma serannas. I will not Keeper Maleenain."

Keeper Maleenain smiled softly. "Dareth shiral, da'len. May the Dread Wolf take interest in the path you walk." She added the last portion of her goodbye much quieter. She knew of Numina's different view on the Elvhen Pantheon, and though part of saw the logic in her view, the Dalish would never change. They were too prideful.

Numina bowed once more to the Keeper, her mentor, friend, and family before finally leaving Clan Lavellan. She had not made it very far into the woods before a voice nearly startled her. "Thought you were going to be able to sneak away before saying goodbye to me, did you?" came Arleth's teasing voice. Numina turned to her friend who was leaning against a tree, clearly he had been waiting for her. "I know, I know. It must be heartbreaking, the thought of me no longer being by your side to pick up you slack." He smiled, but he was trying too hard. Even his playful voice had the sharp edge of sadness in it.

"Arleth..." Numina said quietly, begging him to drop the act.

Arleth sighed, his smile and playful demeanor dropping. "I know. I am going to miss you," he said, closing the distance between them. He stopped just inches away from her, or at least that's what Numina felt like it was.

_He has never been so close to me...Arleth... I am sorry._ "I will miss you too, Arleth."

Bowing his head in silence, he quickly decided he was going to do what he never had the courage for. He pulled Numina closer and kissed her, roughly at first because of the rush, but then his kiss grew gentle, and to his surprise, Numina, kissed him back.

"I love you, Numina," he whispered as they pulled apart.

"I know."

"I wish you didn't have to go."

"I know," this time Numina's voice cracked slightly.

"But you will not change your mind," Arleth said, chuckling softly. "You are too stubborn." Numina nodded, giving him a small smile. "Just come back safely to me. You are too important to me. You are...you are..."

Numina finished his sentence with and elvish phrase she had learned, but had been saving for herself to use for the one it applied to. Arleth wasn't that person, no matter how much she wished it, but she knew he could use it. That it might help. "...ma vhenan," she finished melodically.

"Ma vhenan," he repeated breathlessly, looking at her quizzically.

"It means 'my heart.'"

Arleth nodded thoughtfully before pulling Numina into an embrace. "Dareth shiral, ma vhenan."

After a time Numina pulled herself from his embrace, gave a final nod of goodbye and left, walking through the trees quietly and with an ease only the Dalish could muster. Arleth watched her go, her slim figure almost dancing as she walked with unmatchable grace. Her dark forest green and brown leather robes, matching her surroundings. _Numina...how accurate your name is. Numin is the elvish for tears or crying._ He wiped his eyes roughly. _How cruel fate and the Creators are to have it be determined that Numina was going to be your name._

She didn't look back. She knew it would be some time before she returned to her clan. Looking back wouldn't help, it wouldn't solve anything. So, she continued on, adjusting the pack on her shoulders and double checking that the old, elvish text she used to practice her grasp at the elvish language was bound securely to her belt. With her head held high, Numina, the daughter of tears, made her way through the forest, unaware of what fate had in store for her.


	2. Chapter 2

Seeing Green

Everything was pitch black when Numina woke up. Her head was pounding and her muscles were sore as though she had been in a long and arduous fight. As her senses began returning to her, she realized that she had no clue where she was. She was kneeling with iron manacles digging into her wrist, keeping her restrained. Her robes looked more worn than she remembered, slight fraying at the ends and the leather was thinner in some areas. Looking only with her eyes and without moving her head, she could see many guards were positioned around her, weapons at the ready. _What is going on? I'm in a cell? Chained with a full guard? Why... why can't I remember anything that might explain what's happened?_ Before Numina could become frustrated over her predicament, a sudden searing pain shot through her arm from her hand... as well as a bright green light coming from a mark imbedded in her hand. All Numina could do was gasp at the pain, its suddenness not allowing her any other reaction.

As the pain began to ebb away, receding back to the mark, the doors of her cell burst open, and two women entered, one in near explosion, making her way straight towards Numina, the other more gracefully, less rushed. The guards sheathed their weapons and retreated out of the cell. _I believe I was in less danger with the guards than I am now._ The woman who looked furious approached Numina with her weapon drawn.

"You're awake. Good." The woman's voice was full of malice. "Perhaps you can give us a reason as to why we shouldn't kill you now!"

Numina's breath got caught in her throat, and she remained silent. She couldn't remember anything prior that would have led her to be in this situation. Silence was her best option. Once more though, excruciating pain shot through her arm, radiating from her went to double over, the pain nearly unbearable, but the angry woman seized her arm, yanking it up. "Maybe you can explain this," she hissed. The eerie green light seemed to illuminate the entire room.

The pain left Numina gasping as it finally began to ease up, though it was never fully left her. Her hand was continuously throbbing. "I... I can't," Numina stammered.

"You lie!" The woman growled, bringing her blade to Numina's throat. "Everyone at the Conclave is dead. Divine Justinia is dead. And only you survived with a mark on your hand that glows with a similar magic that killed everyone else. Do not tell me you have no idea what that is or how it got there!"

"That's enough, Cassandra," the other woman piped up, lunging forward and drawing Cassandra away from Numina by her shoulder. "We need her."

Cassandra shook the other woman off, but sheathing her sword nonetheless. Her flames of fury stoked if only momentarily.

"All those people... Dead?" Numina had to ask, her disbelief overwhelming. Cassandra and the other woman regarded her for a moment, but none of them offered an answer or explanation.

"You do not remember?"Leliana asked.

"I remember..." Numina started, her head throbbing as she searched for something. Unclear images flashed in her mind. "It was like a nightmare... I was running from something... and then... there was... a woman?" All of what she said was a question. Nothing was clear to her.

"A woman?" Leliana echoed.

The two women looked at one another briefly. "Head to the forward camp Leliana. I will meet you there." Cassandra finally said, coming towards Numina once more. all though this time she was less threatening about it. Leliana nodded in acknowledgement before departing.

"What _did_ happen?" Numina asked the warrior as she unshackled the manacles before binding her hands with rope.

"It would be...easier if I showed you," Cassandra said. Her former rage melting into slight sadness. Cassandra nearly dragged Numina to her feet. She had been in that position for a very long time and her legs all but refused to work well, making the trip out of her cell and out of the dungeon quite difficult in the beginning.

The light was blinding. It seemed that Numina couldn't squint her eyes enough to block out the sheer amount of it. When she could finally see, her breath was taken from her. The sky was torn asunder, a vibrant green hole, a swirling mass of chaos and matter convulsing where the clouds should be. Comets of flames, green and red alike came crashing down from it. A pulse of green, miasmic lightning suddenly shook the ground and Numina's left hand was yanked towards it, the mark on her hand responding to it, pain spreading from it once more. She fell to her knees, crying out at the pain. It was much more intense than it was when she woke up. Trendles of the emerald lightning danced to the edges of the hole in the sky, causing it to grow noticeably larger.

Once Numina's pain had subsided, Cassandra knelt down beside her. "We call it the Breach," she said. "It is a massive tear in the Veil, allowing demons to cross over freely." There was desperation in her voice and she sounded as if she was pleading with Numina. "With each pulse, it grows larger, as does your mark...and it is killing you. Right now, you and your mark may be the only thing that can close it."

Numina was still gasping for breath, bowing her head in weariness. _So, my options are help you in an attempt to close that thing, potentially dying in the process or die because no one else can close it. I guess it's a good day to feel a bit heroic._ If she couldn't muster up the strength to be sarcastic outwardly, she always had to hold onto her sarcasm inwardly. It was the only thing to keep her from falling into despair in some situations. "I understand." Numina breathed.

"Then you'll...?

"I'll do what I can," Numina nodded, determination hardening her voice, strengthening her resolve. "Whatever it takes."

Cassandra gave her a small smile. In such a hopeless situation, the idea that something could put an end to this nightmare lifted the warrior's heart just a little. Cassandra grabbed ahold of Numina's arm and helped her up before leading her through a camp outside of the building she had been held in only moments before. A crowd had gathered and Numina had never felt so many hate filled stares directed towards her in her entire life. Some of those around even even spat at her.

"These people have already decided your guilt," Cassandra said, clearly being the only thing that kept them from rushing Numina. "The Conclave was supposed to solve the war between the Templars and Mages, and now all their leaders are dead along with our most holy, Divine Justinia, because of an explosion that only you survived. They mourn her loss. We all do. Meanwhile there is a hole in the sky that pours out demons in uncountable numbers. And you stand in the center of it all." The pair had finally made it out of the camp. Cassandra turned to Numina and drew her dagger; it took most of Numina's will not to flinch away. "There will be a trail in Val Royeaux," she said finally, cutting the rope that bound her wrists. "That is all I can promise."

Numina nodded in understanding before they set out in a brisk pace for the forward camp to meet Leliana, as Cassandra explained. Despite the dozens of comets that fell from the sky bearing demons, the duo hadn't encountered any of them. They mostly passed soldiers running to and from. Mostly from. Up ahead, Numina spied a bridge with fortifications on it.

Bright light. Green and menacing. Sharp, unforgiving pain. Another pulse shook the earth as the Breach angrily tore itself wider across the heavens. Numina was once again buckling under the shrieking pain, crying out in reaction. It took sheer determination not to pitch forward or backwards once on her knees. The pain was growing as angrily as the tear in the sky was. What had once been contained to her forearm in the cell was now reverberating all the way to her shoulder, immobilizing her entire arm.

Breaths came out in ragged gasps, sounding hoarse as she fought past her pain. "The pulses are getting stronger now." Cassandra said. "Will you be alright?"

_I have to be_, Numina growled determinedly, nodding her head yes and allowing Cassandra to help her to her feet as per usual. "Let's hurry and get this over with."

It was Cassandra's turn to nod in agreement. She then allowed Numina to take the lead, their path well worn in the snow and littered with flames of battle on either side. _Better to let the weakest of the party go first so you aren't tiring them out...especially if they are the only one who can stop this chaos._ Numina understood Cassandra's intent, and while the strongest of warriors and rogues may be insulted by it, Numia only lamented that the mark and the pulses had left her so weak and drained. _Let's just hope that we only come across lesser demons..._

They had just begun crossing the bridge when a shout of alarm pierced the air. "Watch out!" And with it came one of the rotting, molten green comets. It smashed into the side of the bridge, sending Numina and Cassandra tumbling down onto the frozen river with broken and shattered bits of stone. As they rose to their feet, a demon materialized from oozing green slime in front of them. It was a darker, more corrupted color than that of the breach.

"Stay behind me," Cassandra yelled, drawing her sword and shield then charging at the beast.

Numina was uneasy and dropped into a ready stance. She was unarmed and waiting on someone to fight a battle for her. Compared to the foreign mark on her hand, it was the second most uncomfortable thing for her to go through. She had never been unarmed before, especially not when there was a threat so imminent and potent lurking so close. And as if knowing Numina was uncomfortable and vulnerable, a second demon began to materialize. _Fenedhis!_ Numina swore, quickly scouring the area around her to see if there was anything she could turn into a makeshift weapon. Her eyes settled on something much better than an improvision. _Thank the Creators!_ she offered in silent praise as she rushed to the wooden crate of weapons that had fallen from the bridge with them.

Quickly slinging a quiver over her shoulder, Numina grabbed a bow and nocked an arrow into place. It was one of the most basic bows you could get, typical of any army that relied on numbers. _Beggars can't be choosers, though,_ Numina thought almost giddily, thankful to be doing something rather than be at the mercy of crippling by pain. _It's quite nice of these demons to materialize so slowly,_ she thought to herself, now in much better spirits because of her change in position from victim to predator.

She released the arrow she had already drawn with into the demon, piercing it through the chest. It was followed by two others in rapid succession before the demon died not moments after it had finally became whole. Numina drew one last arrow, aimed, and released, hitting the demon Cassandra was still battling in the head. As it fell, Numina was once more on the wrong side of Cassandra's blade.

The Seeker was menacing and on edge. It had taken Numina a moment to realized that was what she was, only being able to determine it by the symbol she wore on her armor and how closely it resembled the Templars' coat of arms. "Drop your weapon," Cassandra growled.

Numina did not want to cast aside her weapon so easily, but she could see the strain the entire situation was having on Cassandra. _If it will put her mind at ease in at least one respect..._ "Alright. Have it your way." She moved to unshoulder her quiver when Cassandra interrupted her.

"Wait!" she said. "Keep it. I should remember that you came willingly. And I clearly cannot protect you from all the threats we may face."

Numina nodded her thanks, moving back towards the weapons crate where she grabbed two daggers, placing them in the empty sheaths that hung from her belt on her right hip. _They're nothing compared to my Dalish weapons, but they'll have to do._

"We must hurry and meet with the others," Cassandra called out as they set out once more.

"What others?" Numina asked over her shoulder.

"You shall see."

They encountered more demons as they made their way onwards, trudging through the snow. So far Numina and Cassandra had been able to hold them off without injury, but the numbers kept increasing the further along they went. The Breach hadn't expanded in a while, but the throbbing in Numina's hand had steadily grown into painful ache no longer contained to her hand, but in half of her forearm as well. Numina was constantly clenching and unclenching her fist, trying to regain feeling in her hand and shake off the numbness that came with the pain.

It wasn't long before Numina and Cassandra could hear fighting in the distance. Without needing to say anything to one another, they quickened their pace and raced up a steep and snowy slope leading to what looked like the ruins of a watchtower. As they neared the peak, Numina saw "the others" Cassandra had spoken off. One was a blond haired dwarf with a unique looking crossbow. The other was a bald elf with a staff, a mage. There were also a couple of soldiers with them, but as Numina and Cassandra neared them, the soldiers fell to the demons.

"Fenedhis!" the elf swore as the last of the soldiers died, backing up to where the dwarf stood. Both of them were beneath a green crystalline mass that hovered in the air.

"I hope that's elvish for 'Shit,'" the dwarf said with dry humor. "Because we are certainly in it deep."

"It would certainly appear that way," the elf called back.

There were four demons converging on the elf and dwarf. Neither friend nor enemy had seen Cassandra and Numina approach. As Numina strung an arrow, the elf quickly lashed out with lightning that struck each of the demons in a chain reaction, successfully immobilizing them. The dwarf began attacking the demon on his left, the elf on his right, leaving the two in the center for last. Numina took aim and released her arrow, striking one of the demons in the back. It howled in pain and turned to face the direction the projectile had come from. Another arrow shot from Numina's bow, followed by two more, and the demon fell dying and dissolving into the nothing it had sprung from. Numina fitted another arrow to her bow and aimed for the demon the elf was fighting. Cassandra was already ramming her sword into the demon she had knocked to the ground, and the dwarf had filled his demon with enough bolts that it too was finally dead. The elf had frozen his adversary solid, and Numina pulled back on her bowstring with all her strength and focus. The arrow flew, striking the top half of the demon, shattering it with an explosive shot. The elf was taken aback for a moment before his eyes fell on Numina, her war between light emerald and blue ice meeting his grey storms.

Just then, the green crystal expanded into a wispy green tinged glass curtain of sorts. "Quickly," the elf cried out, "before more of the come." Numina had jogged forward a few paces once the demons had died, and the elf reached abruptly for her left arm, the one that held the mark, yanking it towards the green, flowing glass in the sky.

Numina's hand responded to it, and trendles from her hand linked her to the green mass. It was strange, not painful, but there was a sensation behind it she could not entirely describe. Almost like a sharing of energies. The elf still had ahold of her wrist, as if the stabilize her arm. Suddenly the energy was cut off, a pulse that destroyed the link and whatever it was that had hung in the air. There was a slight recoil from her hand, and with it the elf released her arm.

She looked at her hand for a moment before turning her gaze to the elf. "What did you do?" she asked.

"_I_ did nothing," he responded, almost musically Numina noticed. "The credit is yours."

"I guess this thing is actually good for something," Numina mused.

"Whatever magic opened the sky also placed that mark upon your hand," he explained. Numina unconsciously began massaging it, as if to ease its ache. "I theorized the mark might be able to close the Rifts, smaller versions of the Breach that opened in its wake- and it seems I was correct."

Cassandra approached, "Meaning it could also close the Breach itself."

"Possibly," the elf answered before turning back to Numina. "It seems you hold the key to our salvation," he added, giving her a small nod in respect.

Numina responded with one of her own before the dwarf's voice from behind her drew their attention. "Good to know!" he said, adjusting his gloves offhandedly. "Here I thought we would be ass deep in demons forever." Numina couldn't help but smile at the dwarf's colorful and humorous language. "Varric Tethras: rogue, storyteller, and occasional unwelcome tagalong," he introduced, adding a wink for Cassandra at the last part, which he received a roll of her eyes in disgust.

"Something tells me you're not with the Chantry or these soldiers..." Numina started, trying to get an idea of why he was here.

Instead she got laughter from the elf, "Was that a serious inquiry?" he chuckled, clearly finding what he knew of Varric funny.

"Technically," Varric said, "I'm a prisoner, just like you."

Cassandra felt the need to explain, "I brought you here to tell your story to the Divine, Varric. Clearly that is no longer necessary."

"Yet, here I am," he responded with a smirk. "Lucky for you. Considering current events."

Numina offered him a smile, "It sounds like Cassandra may have more prisoners than soldiers pretty soon," she added playfully, receiving soft chuckles from both Varric and the elf. Cassandra merely glared. "It is a pleasure to meet you Varric."

"You may reconsider that stance, in time," the elf added in.

"Oh I'm sure that we'll become great friends down in the Valley, Chuckles," Varric responded, clearly used to the elf's slightly cold remarks.

"Absolutely not," Cassandra jumped in. "While your help is appreciated, Varric, it is not necessary."

"'Not necessary?'" Varric started, almost mockingly. "Seeker, I don't know when the last time you were in the Valley was, but your soldiers are no longer in control. You'll be needing all the help you can get." Cassandra merely gave a disgusted noise in return.

"My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions," he said as Cassandra walked away a few paces. "I am pleased to see you still live," he almost sounded amused for some reason.

"He means, 'I kept that mark from killing you while you slept.'" Varric explained.

"Then I owe you my thanks."

"Save your thanks until after we close the Breach without killing you in the process." Solas then turned to Cassandra. "Cassandra, you should know: the magic involved here is unlike any I have seen. Your prisoner is no mage, but I find it difficult to imagine any mage having such power." Numina fidgeted slightly, _Actually..._ she considered pulling back the curtain on her long kept secret, but the thought was quickly, quietly banished. _It will come up eventually, but not now._

"Understood," Cassandra replied. "We must get to the forward camp quickly." With that, she moved forward to what was once the exit of the ruins, Solas following close behind.

"Well, Bianca's excited," Varric said, motioning to his crossbow before following the others as well.

_What strange companions, _Numina thought to herself, jumping over fallen debris to catch up. They followed the elevated bank of the river for some time. Varric occasionally pestered Cassandra as they continued, and Solas inquired about Numina's hand. To which she responded with "Try my entire arm." At the sight of his worried glance she then added: "All I need it to do is hold a bow. As long as it can do that, I'll be fine." That seemed to be enough for Solas at the moment, for he stopped with his inquiries.

After a while their path led them to a frozen lake. The four of them eased themselves onto it carefully, only to find their worry pointless since the lake was very nearly frozen solid. They had to walk slowly though, all of them slipping several times. Halfway across the lake was when trouble started. Four comets came blazing down, crashing in front of them. Four demons rose from the green slime the comets turned into on impact. With them, they also brought a couple of wisps.

Numina carefully stepped back a few paces before taking aim at the wisps. She wanted to get rid of them before they did any damage with their ranged attacks. The other members of her party started attacking the demons, drawing their attention for the moment. Six arrows down, Numina took aim for one of the demons no one was directly attacking. Just as she released the arrow, the Breach angrily pulsed once more. Numina cried out in pain, dropping to her knees, and unwillingly sending her bow skidding across the ice. None of the others noticed though, the chaos of battle drowning out her out.

There was one thing that had actually taken notice, however. The demon with an arrow sticking out of it wheeled around and began approaching her rapidly. Numina took up a defensive crouch, but with the pain in her arm keeping her from being able to defend herself, Numina could only watch it approach.

"Cassandra!" Solas shouted, seeing Numina's plight after dancing out of reach of his own demon. He was hoping the warrior might be able to reach her in time, where he could not, for his own enemy swung at him once more. Cassandra saw Numina and the demon approaching her, but she could not reach her in time.

The demon was now close enough to Numina to attack. It clenched its fists together and raised them over its head to strike down on her with. Weaponless and partially immobilized by pain, there was only one thing that Numina could really do. _So much for eventually,_ she thought bitterly. Numina brought up her right arm as if to block the incoming blow, but really it was a movement to direct her will. As the demon brought its arms down in a strong blow, the ice from Numina's spell overwhelmed it, freezing it solid. She then cast her hand out towards the demon pushing it with a strong, invisible force backwards, crashing onto the lake, chunks of the frozen abomination scattering along the ice as it shattered.

The others had hastily dispatched their enemies as well, rushing to Numina's aid, though it was no longer needed.

"You're a mage!" Solas exclaimed in disbelief.

"Yes, after you claimed that she was not," Cassandra growled, unsure of who to point her sword at: the newly discovered apostate, or the apostate who apparently lied.

"She wasn't," Solas said, his voice still laced with surprise.

"How is that possible? How could you not know?"

"An amulet of concealment coupled with the fact that it has been many months since I last physically used my magic," Numina said, finally catching her breath and finding her voice after both had been taken by the pain her mark caused her. She rose to her feet slowly, favoring her entire left arm. "I apologize for any deception," Numina continued, taking a few steps towards the group. "I sometimes forget I am a mage... I don't really consider myself one, to be honest."

Solas and Varric looked as though they understood. Cassandra was still glaring, and Varric chimed in, "Best to not look gift usefulness in the mouth, Seeker." It was enough for the warrior to drop the matter for the moment.

"It appears you don't need your arm to hold a bow after all," Solas said, handing Numina the bow he had retrieved from the ice for her.

Numina took it gratefully, "Don't expect me to do that often. It's a last ditch effort, nothing more."

Solas nodded in acknowledgement, but looked at her curiously as she began taking the lead across the ice. It is not often that you can find a mage that can restrain themselves from using magic. It is just like breathing sometimes. Yet, here was this mystery who not only walked out of the fade physically, but also was a mage who could go months at a time without casting a spell. Then it dawned on Solas: none of them knew her name. But now was not the time to ask her. Haste was necessary. They needed to get to the forward camp and quickly.

~~.O.~~

"You order me!?" Cassandra all but roared. "You are but a glorified clerk, not important enough to have been at the Conclave." At this, Numina was finally agreed with the Seeker. Guilty or not, the Breach was more important than hanging her. For the moment.

"Enough!" Leliana interrupted before Cassandra could continue bashing the Chancellor. "We have more important matters at hand."

And as if she had summoned it, another pulse thundered down from the Breach. The pain was immeasurable, for Numina. Biting her tongue was the only reason that she had not cried out at the pain's suddeness or intensity, and Solas catching hold of her, allowing her to brace herself against him was the only reason she had not fallen. Her breathing was ragged, but she focused on control, focused past the pain. She slowly straightened herself, raising her head to meet the eyes of Leliana, Cassandra, and the Chantry Chancellor; her mark splashing an angry green light across her face as the sky above trembled as the Breach grew. Solas remained close in case she needed his aid again, but backed away a few steps, admiring her determination and will.

"The Breach is the only thing that is important right now," Numina said, her voice level and even only because she forced it to be so. "I will got to in Val Royeaux after it is sealed to face judgement, if it is deemed necessary."

"It will be necessary. You brought this on us in the first place!" the Chancellor snarled. "Order a retreat, Seeker. Our position here is hopeless."

"No. We can stop this, but we must act now," Cassandra said, ignoring the Chancellor's supposed _authority_. "Gather the rest of the soldiers and tell them to meet us in the Valley. We will march on the Temple of Sacred Ashes."

"Wait," Leliana said before Cassandra could leave. "There is another way to the Temple. A secret mountain path. You can have the soldiers march on the Valley, drawing the demons and make it to the Temple with very little resistance. It is the safest route." _But it would mean casualties for the soldiers..._ Numina added for Leliana.

"We sent an entire squad of scouts along that path," Cassandra added, turning to Numina. "We lost contact with them. It's too risky."

A dawning realization made Numina blink in confusion for a split second. Both Cassandra and Leliana were turned towards her, rather than themselves. _They are looking to me to make this decision?_ Numina thought in wonder. _A moment earlier they would have had me executed._

"Abandon this now Seeker," the Chancellor begged, "before more lives are lost."

But again Cassandra ignored him. "What do you think?" she asked, addressing Numina.

She couldn't stop herself from saying it or from sounding bitter when she did, "_Now_ you're asking me what _I _think."

"You have the mark," Solas pointed out, equally as cold as she had been.

"And you are the one we need to keep alive," Cassandra admitted. "Since we cannot agree on our own..."

_So they defer to me because I'm currently useful and they need a mediator._ Numina could almost laugh at the sorry state of this situation. "We take the mountain path," she said, noting Varric's nod of approval. "Encourage the troops to work together. They don't need to be reminded what's at stake."

Leliana nodded, taking her leave. Cassandra then took the lead, guiding them to the mountain path. The forward camp was busy as the soldiers received their orders and prepared for a charge on the Temple. "On your head be the consequences Seeker," the Chancellor spat as they walked by.

Once they were out of its boundaries, the route they were taking became obvious. "Is that a mining structure up ahead," Solas inquired.

"Yes," Cassandra answered. "Part of an old complex. Our path takes us through it."

After learning their destination, Numina began to settle into her normal pace. On this rough terrain she had to make herself move much slower in order to match pace with Cassandra and the others. Now that she knew where to head, reflexes and hardiness gained from experienced picked back up, and it wasn't long before she walked side by side with Cassandra. It wasn't that the Seeker was out of breath; it was just the fact that her heavy armor and weapons were cumbersome, making traveling on rough, mountainous terrain that much more difficult. After a while, Cassandra finally nodded her consent for Numina to take the lead.

Solas noted that even though Numina was clearly more experienced and more adapt in traveling conditions and terrain like this, she didn't try to undermine Cassandra. She had shown respect for the Seeker's authority and had sought it out before moving forward. It was surprising to him, given the fact that he had expected much more pride in the elf. And more arrogance. Such is the nature of her kind.

The terrain was difficult. Mountainous terrain typically is, but the snow and ice made it that much more challenging. The wind howled across the snowy waves of undisturbed powder. Cold spikes pricked at Numina's hands and face, but her body was experienced with brutality of the elements. Climbing along this path, Numina could almost forget that the whole world was on the brink of destruction. Almost. There was still the pain in her hand that throbbed endlessly. And there was the green glow coming from the sky, almost as bright as the sun itself.

Her companions surprised her. They were much hardier than she assumed. Especially Varric. Dwarves are most commonly found under the ground, not navigating over mountains. Before reaching the mine, Numina really only had to slow herself once or twice.

To get to the mining complex, the group had to make their way up some rickety ladders that were slowly rotting as the years went by. It was part way up one of these ladders that Solas finally broke the silence that had long since held the group. "It occurs to me," he said loudly, his voice carrying this way and that way by the wind, "that we do not know your name."

"Perhaps we should save pleasantries for a better time," Numina called back, the wind whirling around the four of them as the made their way to a mine shaft. Once inside, the wind was suddenly blocked, no longer begging them to come and play off of the edge of the old ladders and scaffolding.

"You might not make it to 'a better time,'" Solas responded, voice echoingly lightly in the empty shaft. "At the very least, is there no one you would wish for us to inform should the worst come to pass?"

Numina's mind instantly drifted to Keeper Maleenain and Arleth. She turned to face Solas and saw the honesty on his face. She could also see that both Varric and Cassandra were curious as well. "My name is Numina." She observed the understanding on Solas' face as he no doubt knew the elvish word it was derived from.

"I thought only the Dalish elves had weird names," Varric softly chuckled.

"She _is_ Dalish," Solas supplied, his voice rather matter of factly.

Numina nodded, before lightly drawing back the bangs of her starlight hair that always draped across her left eye. She revealed the Vallaslin that traced the side of her eye, accentuating it with faint black lines. It was a modified tattoo of the symbol for Sylaise, the hearthkeeper, whose path is Vir Atish'an, The Way of Peace. "Clan Lavellan of the northern Free Marches," Numina said before allowing her bangs to fall back to where they were, concealing her Vallaslin once more. She didn't notice Solas' attempt to hide his disappointment.

~~.O.~~

Another Rift had barred their way to the Temple. It was there that they found the scouts that had been sent out here. As the link between her mark and the rift dissipated, sealing it, Numina felt a bit more feeling return to her hand and less pain resonating from it.

Solas came to stand beside her. "Sealed. Just as before. You are becoming quite proficient at this." Numina turned to say something, a joke about how she was just making this all up as she went along, but was interrupted.

"Thank you Lady Cassandra," one of the scouts said. "We wouldn't have made it if you hadn't arrived."

"Thank the prisoner, Lieutenant," Cassandra replied, passing on the credit. "She insisted we come this way."

"The prisoner? Then she..."

Numina was slightly confused. Surely Cassandra would want to take credit for saving her own soldiers. "It was worth the chance if you were still alive," she said, going with the best answer and the truth.

"Then you have my thanks, and my men's," the Lieutenant said, saluting.

"The path behind us is clear of danger for now," Cassandra informed them. "Go now and you shouldn't encounter any demons."

"At once! Quickly, to me!" the Lieutenant called to her soldiers before they moved out.

The group then turned to the last portion of the path that remained before they finally reached the Temple. From where they stood, they could already see the outlining rubble of the exterior walls. Charred chunks of land split towards the sky, broken, rotting fangs of stone. As they neared the crater, the smell of burnt flesh held dominion. Numina felt bile rise in the back of her throat, but somehow managed to keep her composure. There were badly burnt corpses still in the positions they had been in when they had died, the flash of inferno from the initial explosion turning them to stone after melting them in seconds.

"That is where you walked out of the fade and our soldiers found you," Cassandra said sadly once they had passed the threshold of the Temple, standing somewhere towards the middle of where the building was. "They say there was a woman in the Rift behind you. No one knows who she was."

Steadily, they made their way downwards, the stairs marked by fire but intact. In the lower level of the Temple, some of the foundation and walls remained partially intact. They passed more bodies. Their horribly burned faces twisted in agony... _If my lost memory can explain all this,_ Numina thought while taking in all this destruction and death, _I do not want to regain it. If it contains even a fraction of all this pain and death, it is not worth it. I do not want to suffer it again. Even if it may spare me from an execution. _

Bright with light. Dismal with decay. Before them in the rubble, hovering above the them, above the lowest level of the Temple was a giant crystalline structure like normal rifts only many times larger. It spun slowly, the jagged teeth of the corrupted emerald green crystal was constantly retreating and sprouting in a chaotic dance. Wisps of miasmic green trendles extended far beyond the solid form, adding to its beauty and repulsion. The greatest of these formed a channel of energy, bonding this rift to the Breach that loomed in the heavens, far beyond their reach. Each of them looked at it with awe, unable to find a proper reaction for something like this.

"The Breach _is_ a long way up," Varric said, his voice echoing as he stated the painfully obvious.

They continued forward a few paces before all of them were startled. "You're here!" Leliana called, approaching with several archers. "Thank the Maker!"

Cassandra turned, "Leliana, have your men take up positions around the temple." Numina was still sizing up their goal, along with Varric and Solas. Cassandra walked in front of her to grab her attention. "This is your chance to end this. Are you ready?"

"I'll do my best," Numina answered, doubt tinging her words, "but I'm not even sure how I'm going to reach that thing."

"You must," Solas said, shaking his head. "This rift was the first, and it is the key." He finally looked away from the rift and at Numina. "Seal it, and perhaps we seal the Breach."

_Right. No pressure then,_ Numina thought tensely. "Let's find a way down. And be careful." Cassandra added, before they began trekking through the ruins once more.

Green lightning seemed to flicker above their heads, casting menacing shadows about this already haunted place. Randomly, the mark on Numina's hand would flare up, causing her annoyance but thankfully no pain.

The voice was deep. It rang out laced with darkness and evil, almost growling but without any malice behind it. "Now is the hour of our victory. Bring forth the sacrifice." Numina didn't say anything in case she was crazy, but a quick glance at the soldiers and her companions told her that they had heard it as well.

"What are we hearing?" Cassandra asked, voicing the question that was on everyone's mind. She was unnerved and slightly fearful.

"At a guess, the person who created the Breach," Solas offered.

They continued on, and up ahead, Numina could see a faint glow of red. When they rounded the corner, the source of it was revealed. Angry red crystals growing bright and bloody. It looked as though they had erupted from the ground.

"You know this stuff is red lyrium, Seeker," Varric hissed.

"I see it, Varric."

"But what's it _doing_ here?"

"Magic could have drawn on lyrium beneath the temple, corrupted it..." Solas answered. Always having some kind of answer to everyone's questions.

Varric snorted. "It's evil. Whatever you do: don't touch it."

As they passed the last of the red lyrium, the nameless, bodiless voice came once more. "Keep the sacrifice still," it said.

"Somone help me!" followed afterwards. It was a frail voice, weak, distorted with desperation and fear.

Cassandra gasped. "That is Divine Justinia's voice!"

The group dropped down to the lowest level of the Temple's ruins. As they did, the fade rippled like water and reflected sounds and images. _A memory of this place_, Numina realized_._ It began with Divine Justinia's plea for aid.

"Someone, help me!"

A different voice echoed from the memory, "What's going on here?" it asked, curiously. Numina was taken aback.

"That was your voice. Most Holy called out to you. But..." Cassandra started, confused; but she was cut off by images that now flared before the rift.

It was of a large shadowy figure with red eyes. He was standing above an older woman in Chantry robes. _The Divine._ She was bound by a red energy swirling around her outstretched arms. But something caught their attention. Both the Divine and the fiend turned their heads. _I interrupted_, Numina saw.

"What's going on here?" the memory of Numina asked, voice slightly warped.

"Run while you can!" Divine Justinia cried. "Warn them!"

"We have an intruder," the fiend growled, anger lacing his words making them that much more menacing. "Slay the elf!"

"Like hell!" Numina growled vehemently under her breath. She didn't even truly understand why she did. If anything, she should be feeling confused at the situation. Yet she felt nothing but pure hate and anger towards the shadow drenched figure. It must have been some primal reaction or memory that her body held while her mind did not. Thankfully none of the others heard her. Well...except for Solas. He safely tucked it away to ask about in detail later.

The reflected memory shone with blinding light before dissipating. Cassandra couldn't get her words out fast enough, "You_ were_ there. Who attacked? And the Divine, is she..? Was this vision true? What are we seeing?" It sounded as if she was challenging Numina.

"I don't remember!" Numina said.

"Echoes of what happened here," Solas commented. "The fade bleeds into this place." He turned back to Numina, Cassandra and Varric after taking several paces towards the rift. "This rift is not sealed, but it is closed... Albeit temporarily. I believe that with the mark, the rift can be opened, and then sealed properly and safely. However," he continued readying his staff, "opening the rift will likely attract attention from the other side."

"That means demons," Cassandra called out to the soldiers, determination giving her voice a harsh edge. "Stand ready!"

The soldiers drew their weapons and fitted their bowstrings with arrows. There was movement as everyone began taking up better positions around the rift, Numina and her companions included. Numina retrieved her own bow, holding it lightly in her right hand. It would allow her to switch it over to the left quickly once the rift was opened.

At Cassandra's nodd that everyone was ready, Numina raised her hand bearing the mark towards the rift. Trendles of green energy instantly connected the mark to the rift. Instead of it feeling more like a sharing of energies with a slight gain of it on Numina's part as it did when she closed the two other rifts, this time it felt as though the rift was gaining energy from her. The rift sizzled and cracked with energy before a sudden explosion of energy brought a demon from the newly opened rift.

Pride.

"Now!" Cassandra shouted, and the archers released their arrows; but it only fueled the demon's anger as they glanced off the demons armored skin not so much as leaving a mark. _Basic arrows are for basic enemies. Not pride demons..._ Numina had been close to nocking an arrow, but she quickly revised her strategy, slinging her bow across her back and reaching instead for her daggers. _Again, these are basic, but they might be a bit more effective_.

The others began diving into their attack on the demon. Numina was about to throw herself into the fray when she felt a strange pull on the mark. Following her gut ,she raised her hands towards the rift again. This time, however, when the columns of energy connected, she could feel the energy coursing into her instead, like normal. As the energy finally reached its climax, an explosion of green cut off the connection. The rift was still there, but it was noticeably smaller. The sudden drain of energy also affected the demon. It was stunned and weakened, as if it had suffered a grievous wound. _That is how we we win._

As much as Numina didn't want to, she stayed out of the fighting, daggers drawn, close to the rift. She would claim energy from the rift, draining it whenever she could. The demon was weakening, thanks to the soldiers' and her companions' efforts .There was a time though, that Solas was in danger from a massive blow from the pride demon. Without consciously making the decision, Numina pulled from her magic and froze the demon's arm he was lashing out at Solas with. The ice encased its arm all the way to its back, stopping it mid blow. It roared in frustration and Solas was able to move out of its reach before it broke through the ice. When his eyes met hers, Solas raised an eyebrow, his expression seemingly to ask, "Last ditch effort?"

Twice now Numina had drained the rift of energy. And it still hovered above their heads. A killing blow was landed on the demon, though. Blood and sinew hacked apart by Cassandra's sword. It was then that Numina felt a shift in the rift. She felt weakness.

_One last time_ Numina growled, reaching for the rift. It was different this time. She was pulling energy from the rift, but the mark was pulling Numina's energy, sapping her of her strength. _It's going to kill me_, she thought in near desperation. But she held on. She needed to hold on. Not just for herself, but for everyone. She could feel the lingering tinges that signaled the end was almost there.

But...

Everything went pitch black.

~~.O.~~

Authors Note:

Thanks for reading my first two chapters! I apologize for this one. I honestly hadn't expected to make it so long. I just really wanted to seal the rift in it, and it just kept going and going and going...

Anyways, if you guys come across any kind of error, just shoot me a message or something, and I'll take care of it.

Also, the "official" pronunciation for Numina's name is "New-min-uh" or "Noo-min-a" derived from the elvish word "noo-min"


	3. Chapter 3

Dreams of a Soul Colored by...

The sweet smell of grass was one of the first things Numina noticed when she woke. Next she felt the its fingers tickling her face and hands. She found herself laying on a bed of grass that had overcome stone, her right arm underneath her, her left outstretched above her. Grogginess still held her, but she softly braced herself on her hands and knees before gracefully rising to her feet. Weariness did not have a place in her body and well rested strength coursed through her.

Numina took in her surroundings. Elegant stone was at her feet, patches of grass and flowers emerging through the cracks, adding to the beauty. Ancient walls surrounded her, cracked and crumbling in places, only serving as a barrier for there was no longer a ceiling for them to support. Tall columns sprouted in areas. Where they once stood for elegance and beauty, they now were home to birds and vines. Nature was slowly reclaiming this lost and forgotten place, though it did not take away from the beauty. Instead it created an ancient harmony. The golden sunlight that filtered in through the trees surrounding the ancient walls made everything shimmer, adding to the beauty, the harmony.

"I remember this place..." Numina hummed softly to herself. She then laughed softly. "This is a dream. A memory. I have visited these ruins before."

She looked on with wonder. It had been many years ago when she was last here. The fact that the fade could recreate it with such exquisite detail she did not even know she remembered was incredible.

There were stairs before her. Ones that lead deeper into the ruin. Numina was about to head towards them, when a nagging feeling in the back of her head stopped her. Smoothly, she turned around, looking up at the entrance. At the top of the stairs standing between the old archway was a white wolf with silver eyes. Numina gasped at the sight, readying herself in case it attacked.

But it didn't. The wolf stood there, it's breathing loudly echoing in the silent dream. It sounded like it was panting, as if it had run a long way. _Curious,_ Numina thought, lowering her guard and relaxing. _Usually you find only yourself and a spirit or demon in a dream, not wolves._

The wolf sat down, watching her with his piercing eyes. It cocked its head to the side as if to ask her what she was doing. Playing along with the dream, Numina cast her eyes around her surroundings before looking back at the wolf. She shrugged elaborately, _I have no idea_.

Not wanting to end the dream, she went along with it, as most who are unconscious when they dream do automatically. Numina made her way down the stairs. She could hear the click-clacks and the wolves nails on the stone as it followed her. The urge to look behind her to see if it truly was tagging along was strong, but her fear of chasing it away made her continue on. A rotting wooden door was before her, and cautiously, she opened it, entering a room that was bare.

On each wall in this room there was another door. Three in total. Three choices. Numina walked into the center of the room. "That's right," she said to know one in particular. "This place was like a maze. Go through the wrong door and there's some kind of trap or creature to fight." The wolf was there with her. Standing in the doorway. Silver eyes glowing with mischief. "Let's see if I can remember..."

Hesitantly, Numina walked to the door straight ahead. Her hand was on the handle, when she heard a small whine from behind her. The wolf was now seated in the middle of the room. He cocked his head at her. Numina smiled, teasingly. "I know it's the wrong door," she said playfully. "But now I know that you are friendly." _At least for the moment._

Numina moved to the door on the left and threw it open, revealing a corridor that had another door on the end. On the other side of that it was another room that contained another set of three doors to choose from. This continued several times over, Numina hopefully remembering the correct door and the wolf watching and following. At first, Numina was hesitant about letting it follow her; though he had warned her of the wrong door previously, she still couldn't be sure that it wasn't a demon of some sort. But after a time, Numina enjoyed the company in this lonely dream. The soft sounds as its paws tapped on the stone and its soft breathing were relaxing.

Once, Numina "remembered" the wrong door. She had picked the one on the right and opened it to find very large corrupted spiders behind it. As soon as her eyes fell on the multiple beady ones of the spiders, Numina slammed the door and braced herself against it. The door began pounding and bursting as the spiders threw themselves at the door. Numina was using all her strength to keep the door closed. One of the spiders threw itself exceptionally hard at the door, managing to open it slightly allowing a few of its friends' legs to slip through. Numina went from bracing the door with her back to pushing against it face on with her hands. "Fenedhis!" she swore. "I. Hate. Spiders!" she shoved with sudden explosive strength, closing the door and severing the legs that had sneaked through the opening. The spider that owned them screamed and the legs twitched there for a couple of seconds.

That is when her friend came up to her carrying a staff with a blade on each end up to Numina. It was an old weapon he must have found in the amongst the rubble. Numina looked and saw that on either side of the door, there were cracks in the stone it was imbedded in. "Brilliant," she thanked her friend. Grabbing the staff she quickly wedged it into the cracks and backed away. The spiders redoubled their efforts and managed to open the door, but the staff held and there was only a sliver of an opening. Allowing some of their legs to get through, but nothing more.

Numina rushed through the correct door, the one that was straight upon entering the room, and closed it behind her. She picked up one of the loose rocks that were lying on the floor and placed it on top of the door`s handle, signaling that she had been here in case she needed to backtrack or got turned around.

The whiter than snow wolf looked at her, silver eyes sparkling with what Numina thought was humor. She also could have sworn that the wolf was smiling at her. "Laugh it up," Numina sighed. "You'd hate spiders too if you were smart." And of course the wolf said nothing. He simply cocked his head to right and looked at her, his eyes filled with laughter. Numina shook her head and continued onwards, thankfully having no more mishaps like the spiders.

It was the last door. Numina remembered it almost perfectly. She also could recognize it because of the charcoal mark beside it she had left when she first visited it. Numina narrowed her eyes at the charcoal scribble. _That's almost too particular, _she thought. _Would the fade have truly recreated this place so perfectly from my memory_? Carefully, she opened the door, peering inside. She then cast it open and walked inside.

It was an underground cave. The ceiling was far above them, with a hole in the center that grass and leaves hung from. It allowed in sunlight that shone directly on a crystal blue pond in the center. The light sparkled and danced off of the water's surface, shimmering against the walls, ceilings and floors of the cave. The floor was a sea of green grass littered with flashes of color in clusters and bunches covering the entire area. Of this peaceful, serene, and tranquil place, the flowers and the pond where her favorite. She had spent countless hours by its edge, gazing into its clear depths with flowers in hand when she had first discovered this place years ago.

There was another reason she loved this place though. Behind the pool of glassy water, there was a statue of a wolf. Fen'Harel. Numina gazed at the statue, it stone eyes staring blankly back. She walked to the edge of the pool, her feet at its bank. For a moment she stood rigid before bowing out of respect for Fen'Harel, the Great Betrayer.

Her white wolf friend strode up and sat beside her when she was finished. He gave her one of his curious looks that he must enjoy giving. "What?" Numina asked. "Are you expecting a bow now, too?" The wolf didn't move, just watched her with silverite eyes. "Alright then," Numina sighed teasingly. She turned to face her dream companion, going to make her next bow outrageously extravagant. Something caught her attention though. Her left hand.

The mark was gone. Everything was back to normal.

Lightning flew, crackling and sizzling, white and intense. The wolf yelped in surprise as Numina's will directed the lightning to the nearest of the cave walls. The illusion shattered. The peaceful scenery was gone, jagged and grey was the new theme of the dream. _Never trust the Fade_.

Numina looked for her adversary, anger growing for not noticing earlier that things were mimicking her desires. Hot chains wrapped themselves around her legs and wrists before she noticed. A gasp and then a shriek as electricity surged through her restraints. Numina was left breathing heavily. Her bright pink and purple confines glowing against her skin. That is when she finally saw it.

Desire.

"And here I thought I finally had you," the feminine voice said teasingly. "All you needed to do was relax some more and let your guard down." Its voice was pleasing even to Numina's ears, and certain words would draw out, invoking the thoughts and feelings tied into them; like the word relax. Numina shook her head. While the demon may sound pleasing, its looks were not. "What gave me away?" It asked in a pout.

Numina looked into the demon's magenta eyes. "You overplayed your...hand," Numina said moving her left hand in a wave.

The demon growled in disgust and rage. "No matter," she hissed. "You are far too valuable to lose now. I will have you!" It roared, ready to lunge at Numina.

Something more malicious came from behind the demon, though. It too was growling, but with a fierceness only a wolf could manage. The white wolf stood behind the demon. It's eye glowing with anger.

Desire turned to the wolf. "You-!" it gasped.

But Numina had seen her opening and took it. She drew on her magic and will, freezing the chains around her wrist and shaping it into the form of a dagger in her right hand. Lunging forward, the chains snapped like twigs, brittle from freezing. Without hesitation, Numina rammed her Fade dagger into the demon's back.

"You're not the only one who can manipulate," Numina hissed, jamming the dagger higher up Desire's back.

Numina received weak, mocking laughter in return. The demon was still looking at the wolf. "If only you could see what I see..." More laughter poured from her lips. "Here...let me help you!" Desire wrenched herself free of Numina's grasp and turned to face her, raising her hand to Numina's eyes.

Violet light blinded out everything. It was all Numina could see. Then everything was black. Fear rose that she was now blind in the Fade. Thunderous sounds reached her ears. A wolf snarling viciously, barking, and snarling. Shrieks of pain as something was torn to shreds by teeth and claws. The loudest of all was a scream.

"Wake up...Dreamer!"

~~.O.~~

She woke up with a start. Lunging forward, a cry of fear on her lips. Numina all but terrified the young elven girl that was bringing a crate into the room.

"Oh!" the elf cried, dropping what she was carrying. Glass crashed as it hit the stone floor. "I didn't know you were awake, I swear!" she said, scrambling to give an explanation as if she had done something wrong.

Numina glanced around the room, taking in the simple furnishings, before turning back to the elf. "Don't worry about it," she said lightly with a smile. "I only just-"

The elf dropped to her knees though, bowing before Numina. Alarm and confusion caused Numina to raise to her feet, standing beside the bed she had been on. "I beg your forgiveness and your blessing. I am but a humble servant," she said, continuing to bow before her.

"Stand up," Numina ordered coldly. The elf looked confused, but did as she was told. "Do not bow before me," she added more softly. "I am no one."

"My lady, do you not know?" the elf asked, puzzled expression still on her face.

"Know what?"

"You are back in Haven, my lady," she supplied. "They say you saved us. The Breach stopped growing just like the mark on your hand." At this Numina looked down. _Back where it should be_, she thought. The pain was gone. A miracle. "It's all anyone has talked about for the last three days."

_Three days!?_ Numina was beyond shocked at this point, yet she did what she could to retain her composure. "Then the danger is over?"

"The Breach is still in the sky, but that's what they say." The elf then began walking away. "I'm certain Lady Cassandra would want to know you've awakened. She said 'At once.'"

"Where is she?"

"In the Chantry with the lord chancellor. 'At once' she said." With that, the elf quickly ran out of the room, closing the door behind her.

_What an odd girl,_ Numina thought, going to the crate she had left on the floor. There was a few supplies in there for her. She explored the room a little, locating her bow and daggers in a chest nearby, for which she was thankful. Realizing that she could no longer put it off, she moved to the door to go meet Cassandra. What she saw outside, nearly floored her.

A crowd had gathered outside, waiting for her. They had lined themselves along the path that lead to the Chantry. From where she stood, she could see Varric some ways off by one of the campfires; and she could see Solas, though he was much further away speaking to a man in robes. As she passed those that were gathered, some of them saluted her. Others would nod respectfully. She could also hear them whispering "There she is!" "She's the one who saved us all!" "The Herald of Andraste!" _What did they call me? Herald?_

Ironically enough, her only refuge from the many people who wanted to see her and talk about her was in the Chantry. The door at the back of it was slightly ajar and she could hear the Chancellor's angry voice along with Cassandra's. Upon opening the door and entered she was _warmly_ welcomed.

"Chain her!" the Chancellor snapped at the guards that stood by the door. "I want her prepared for travel to the capitol for trial!"

"Disregard that," Cassandra said, "and leave us." Without hesitation, the guards obeyed her orders, saluting before they left.

The Chancellor was even more furious afterwards. "You walk a dangerous line, Seeker," he sneered.

"The Breach is stable, but it is still a threat. I will not ignore it," She growled menacingly.

"I did everything I could to close the Breach," Numina said defensively. "It almost killed me."

"Yet you live. A convenient result, insofar as you're concerned," the Chancellor hissed.

Numina snarled at him and was ready with harsh words, _You think I would choose any of this! If I could choose, I would have died sealing the Breach_, but Cassandra stopped her. "Have a care, Chancellor," Cassandra forced out, trying obviously hard to control her anger. "The Breach is not the only threat we face."

"Someone was behind the explosion at the Conclave," Leliana added. "Someone Most Holy did not expect. Perhaps they died with the others- or have allies who yet live," the last part was menacing, aimed at the Chancellor.

"_I_ am a suspect?"

"You, and many others," Leliana growled, nearly better than Cassandra could.

"But not the prisoner?"

"I heard the voices at the Temple," Cassandra supplied, defending Numina. "The Divine called to her for help."

"So her survival, that _thing _on her hand- all a coincidence?"

_Try bad luck. Maybe cruel fate. Coincidence sounds like it's good_, Numina wanted to say. "Providence." Cassandra answered knowingly. "The Maker sent her to us in our darkest hour." Numinas eyes locked on to Cassandra. _Does she really believe that?_

"No offense," Numina said carefully, "but I highly doubt that. I mean, why me?"

"No one can know the Maker's will," Cassandra said. "But you were exactly what we needed when we needed it." She turned to retrieve something from a table behind her.

"The Breach remains in the sky," Leliana added. "And your mark is still the only hope of closing it."

"This is not for you to decide!" Chancellor Roderick snapped.

Cassandra slammed what she had on the table. It was a tome with a strange symbol on the top. "You know what this is, Chancellor," she told him. "A writ from the Divine, granting us the authority to act."

"As of this moment, I declare the Inquisition reborn. We will close the Breach, we will find those responsible, and we will restore order. With or without your approval."

~~.O.~~

_"If you are truly trying to restore order...then I'm with you." By the Creators...what have I gotten myself into. All I was supposed to do was spy on the Conclave and bring the information back to my clan. Now I am part of a week old Inquisition, taking advice from a Spymaster who was formerly The Divine's left hand, a Commander who was formerly a Knight-Commander of the templars, and an Ambassador from Antiva. All the while people now call me the Herald of Andraste. She is who they think was standing in the Rift behind me. A Dalish elf the Herald of Andraste? Fen'Harel has a sense of humor._

The sounds of battle echoed everywhere across the frozen landscape of Haven. Commander Cullen always had his troops running drills to get them in shape. The Inquisitions forces weren't large by any means, but Cullen kept them busy and, most importantly, useful.

Numina was walking back from the dock that overlooked the frozen lake on the outskirts of Haven. She had spent most of the morning reading, finally finishing Varric's _Tale of the Champion_ he was willing to supply her with. He had only given it to her two days before, having witnessed her reading an old Chantry book. _"We can't have the mighty Herald reading nothing less than perfection," _he had said. _"Here. Informational and a wonderful plot, if I say so myself."_ She had to give Varric credit, though. It was a good book, though she was curious as to what had happened to Hawke's friends and family. Luckily enough, the author wasn't very difficult to get a hold of.

That was who she was on her way to visit, book in hand, when something out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. _A white wolf...?_ Images of a dream from a week ago splashed to the front of her mind. She turned to look in its direction, instead seeing Solas looking off into the distance, deep in thought. _It must have been a trick of the sun on the snow,_ she reasoned, forgetting it quickly. Deciding that she could speak with Varric at a later time, Numina approached Solas, offering him a smile when he noticed her.

"The Chosen of Andraste, a blessed hero sent to save us all," he said, greeting her by her new title.

"Am I riding in on a shining stead?" Numina asked, smiling playfully.

"I would have suggested a griffon, but sadly they're extinct," he gave her a small smile of his own. "Joke as you will, posturing is necessary." Numina gave him a questioning look. He looked out to the horizon for a moment before continuing. "I have journeyed deep into the Fade in ancient ruins and battlefields to see the dreams of lost civilizations. I've watched as hosts of spirits clash to reenact the bloody past in ancient wars famous and forgotten." He sounded lost in thought, and Numina found herself drawn to his words. Especially those about him seeing memories in the fade. "Every great war has its heroes," he continued, finally looking back at her. "I'm just curious what kind you will be."

Numina thought to address the question there, but instead her curiosity got the better of her. "What did you mean by ancient ruins and battlefields?"

He smiled, seemingly amused by her question before going into a deep explanation. Solas told her about how any building strong enough to stand against the ferocity of time has a history, and that every battle field is steeped in death. These places attract spirits that cling to the emotions and energy, pressing against the Veil, weakening the barrier between worlds. When he goes to these places and dreams in them he can see memories that no other living being has ever seen.

Numina was completely fascinated by the whole idea of dreaming of memories long since forgotten. She wanted to press him for more information, but instead decided to play it safe, "You fall asleep in ancient ruins? Isn't that dangerous?"

Once more he smiled in amusement. "I do set wards," he explained. "And if you leave food out for the giant spiders, they are usually content to live and let live."

_I hate spiders,_ Numina thought as she shook her head. "I've never heard of anyone traveling so far into the Fade. It's extraordinary... I'm honestly a little jealous," she admitted.

"I can understand that. The thrill of finding remnants of a thousand-year-old memory? I would not trade it for anything." The smile he had faded a bit, as he lost himself in thought. "I will stay then," he finally said. "At least until the Breach is closed."

"Were you thinking of leaving?"

"I am an apostate mage surrounded by Chantry forces in the middle of a mage rebellion, and unlike you, I do not have some _divine_ mark to protect me. Cassandra has been accommodating, but you can understand my caution," he explained.

"You came here to help, Solas, and you have done so more than most. I won't let them use that against you," Numina tried to reassure him, determination making her words honest.

"How would you stop them?" Solas asked

"However I had to. I owe you at least that much."

He seemed a little surprised at how fiercely she had spoken. He did not doubt that she spoke the truth. "I... Thank you." There was a moment of silence between the two. Numina nearly took her leave when Solas spoke. "If I may," he started, "why is it you hide your Vallaslin? Is it out of shame?"

Numina chuckled softly. "Usually I am accused and not asked about that," she said. "But no. My experience with people outside of the Dalish has showed that others usually find it easier to speak to me if they cannot see my Vallaslin. Even if they already know I'm Dalish."

Solas nodded in understanding. "I take it that you've spent a lot of time with humans."

"Yes. When I was younger, I began to visit human villages during my Clan's travels," she explained. "I would share stories in exchange for news and any other kind of information. Sometimes an old veteran would show me a new fighting style. Sometimes I would trade ironbark trinkets for books. It has been many years and most of what I learn is current events now, but I still visit when I can."

"Very odd behavior for a Dalish elf," he remarked.

"Indeed," Numina agreed. "I received a great deal of disapproval from my fellow clan members. Still do, in fact." She paused for a moment, deciding whether or not to continue. "I simply do not see how cutting ourselves off from the world outside of our clans, clinging to the distorted shreds of history we have, can help anyone. Least of all ourselves. We have lost so much and lose even more as we look for what's forgotten, letting what is happening presently pass us by."

Solas looked at her with hidden wonder. Numina continued to surprise him with her character and wisdom. She was a mystery to him. "It is a pity that more Dalish do not share your views. Truly they would benefit greatly from it."

"Perhaps," she replied with a sad smile. "That is something we will never know. We Dalish are too stubborn. Too prideful." Solas nodded his agreement. Silence threatening to take hold once more. "I should return this to Varric," she sighed. "Thank you for your time Solas. I enjoyed speaking with you." Numina bowed her head in respect before retreating towards the campfires.

"I enjoyed it as well," Solas finally said, but she had been gone for a short amount of time and was already handing her borrowed book back to the owner. Too far away to hear him.

~~.O.~~

As Cassandra walked beside her on their way to the newly established war room, Numina found herself staring at the mark on her hand.

"Does it trouble you?" Cassandra finally asked, drawing her from her thoughts.

"Hmm?" Numina hummed before fully processing what was asked. "It's stopped hurting. That's something. As for everything else..."

"Take the victories, however small, where you can get them," Cassandra advised earnestly. "Your mark is now stable, as is the Breach. You've given us time, and Solas believes a second attempt might succeed- provided the mark has more power. The kind of power used to open the Breach in the first place."

"You don't just stumble into that amount of power," Numina observed skeptically.

"No," Cassandra agreed. "We will need the help of the Mages or the Templars"

"I understand." Numina then added cynically, "Besides, what harm can there be in powering up something we barely understand?"

Cassandra laughed dryly, "Hold on to that sense of humor." The two of them passed the guards and entered the war room. The Inquisition's three advisors stood on the other side. "May I present to you Commander Cullen, leader of the Inquisition's forces."

He stood in magnificent armor, rustic reds favoring him. "Such as they are," he said stoically. "We lost many men in the Valley." _Which is on me,_ Numina lamented. _I chose the mountain path over charging with the soldiers._

"This is Lady Josephine Montilyet," Cassandra continued. "Our ambassador and chief diplomat."

"Andaran atish'an," she said in greeting. She was dressed in vibrant colors, with silver and gold trimmings and jewelry that sparkled in the candlelight.

"You speak elven," Numina asked in surprise.

"I'm afraid you just heard all of it," Josephine answered with a smile.

"And you already know Sister Leliana," Cassandra finished.

"My position here requires a degree of..."

"She is our spymaster," Cassandra interrupted.

"Yes, tactfully put, Cassandra," Leliana responded, sounding rather unamused.

"It is a pleasure to meet all of you officially," Numina said, bowing her head respectfully.

"I mentioned that your mark needs more power to close the Breach for good," Cassandra said, _tactfully_ moving on to business.

"Which means we must approach the rebel mages for help," Leliana put in.

"And I still disagree," Cullen argued. "The templars could serve just as well."

Cassandra sighed. "We need power, Commander. Enough magic powered into the mark-"

"Might destroy us all," Cullen cut in. "Templars could suppress the Breach, weaken it so-"

"Pure speculation," Leliana interrupted.

"_I_ was a templar," Cullen sighed, annoyed. "I know what they are capable of."

"Unfortunately neither group will even speak to us," Josephine finished.

_Creators watch over us...They are bickering like children. Were we back at my clan, the Keeper would have had them tied up to the same tree until they finally got along._ Numina could feel a headache coming on. _This Inquisition is going to need all the help it can get if the advisors can't even have a similar opinion._

"The Chantry has denounced the Inquisition- and you specifically," Josephine added, pointing at Numina with the quill she had.

"Well, that didn't take long," Numina remarked.

"Shouldn't they be arguing over who's going to become Divine?" Cullen asked, his voice sounding a little bitter.

Josephine ignored him. "Some are calling you- a Dalish elf -the 'Herald of Andraste' and that frightens the Chantry," she explained. "The remaining clerics have declared it blasphemy, and we heretics for harboring you." _Oh, how I've missed that word,_ Numina thought cynically. _At least it won't take me by surprise when I am called a heretic._

"Chancellor Roderick's doing no doubt," Cassandra said, spitting his name as if she were swearing.

"It limits our options," Josephine continued. "Approaching the mages or templars for help is currently out of the question."

Numina shook her head as silence covered the war room. "Just how am _I_ the Herald of Andraste, anyway?"

"People saw what you did at the Temple, how you stopped the Breach from growing," Cassandra explained. "They have also heard about the woman seen in the rift when we found you. They believe that was Andraste."

"Even if we tried to stop that view from spreading..." Leliana added.

"Which we have not."

"The point is, everyone is talking about you."

"It's quite the title, isn't it?" Cullen remarked. "How do you feel about that?"

"Frankly? It's a little unnerving," Numina answered.

"I'm sure the Chantry would agree with you," he chuckled.

"People are desperate for a sign of hope," Leliana said. "For some, you are that sign."

"And to others, a symbol of everything that has gone wrong," Josephine added.

Again, Numina shook her head in disapproval. "They aren't more concerned about the Breach? The real threat?"

"They do know it's a threat," Cullen supplied. "They just don't think we can stop it."

"The Chantry is telling everyone you'll make it worse," Josephine finished.

"So, what I've gathered so far," Numina started, finally allowing herself to be brutally honest with them, "is that none of you can agree on who to go to for help, which currently doesn't matter because we cannot approach either due to the Chantry because the rumor that I am the Herald of Andraste has not been stifled but rather encouraged." Numina took a breath. "Which if I'm not mistaken leaves us no closer to moving forward in an another attempt to close the Breach." _There...what took many minutes of conversation perfectly summed up with no bullshit in the way._

"Yes," Cassandra agreed, clearly feeling that the advisors were somewhat worthless at the moment. "You are exactly right."

Leliana and Cullen shuffled nervously at the slight accusation Numina had made towards them. Josephine looked calm, no doubt from many years of experience with arrogant nobles.

"Actually, there is something you can do," Leliana finally said. "A Chantry cleric by the name of Mother Giselle has asked to speak to you. She is not far, and knows those involved far better than I. Her assistance could be invaluable."

_You should have lead with that in the beginning..._ "I'll see what she has to say."

"My agents have already made contact with her," Leliana continued. "You can find her tending to the wounded in the Hinterlands, at the Crossroads near Redcliffe."

"While you're there, you should look for other opportunities to expand the Inquisition's influence," Cullen suggested.

"We need agents to extend our reach beyond this valley, and you're better suited than anyone to recruit them," Josephine agreed.

"Very well," Cassandra said, then turned to Numina. "I will start gathering and readying supplies for the journey. You should inform Varric and Solas that we are traveling to the Hinterlands. We will leave tomorrow at dawn."

~~.O.~~

They set up camp just before the sun was to disappear below the horizon, leaving them plenty of time to prepare for the night. Their horse was unloaded and tied to nearby tree. Makeshift tents were pitched, and Numina started a fire. Cassandra announced that she would go and gather some firewood, leaving her shield and the bulk of her armor behind, but bringing her sword with her as a precaution. Solas was rummaging through their supplies, picking out what they would make for supper this night. They had covered a great amount of distance that day, making it to the forest just outside of the Hinterlands. All of them were weary though, having kept up a brisk pace.

As soon as Cassandra had disappeared into the forest's shadows cast in the dying light, Varric turned to Numina, "Now that Cassandra's out of earshot, how are you holding up?" he asked with honest kindness in his voice. "I mean you went from being the most wanted criminal in Thedas to joining the armies of the faithful. Most people would have spread that over more than one day." Solas had turned so that he could hear the conversation but made it look like he was busy.

Numina thought about this. No one had really asked after her or about how she was doing. _They just assume that I'm doing perfectly fine because that's how I act._ She sat cross-legged on the ground in front of the fire. "Honestly? I'm just thankful that I'm still alive," she said with a dry humored smile.

"I'm surprised you managed to survive Cassandra," he said, drawing light laughter from Numina. "You don't know how lucky you were to be out cold for most of her...frothing rage." When she stopped chuckling, Varric continued. "Ah, but you can't blame her or any of us, for that matter. For days we had been staring up at the Breach, watching demons and Maker-knows-what fall from the sky. 'Bad for morale' would have been an understatement." He shook his head. "I still can't believe anyone was in there and survived that."

"As bad as it was, why did you stay?"

"I'd like to believe that I'm as selfish as the next guy, but this..." His face turned grim. "Thousands of people died on that mountain. I was almost one of them. And now there's a hole in the sky. Even I can't leave and just let it sort itself out."

"I still can't believe that any of this is really happening," Numina admitted.

"If this is all just the Maker winding us up, I hope there's a damn good punch line coming." Varric settled himself down beside Numina. "You might want to consider running at the first opportunity," he advised. "I've written enough tragedies to recognize where this is going. Heroes are everywhere. I've seen that. But a whole in the sky?" That's beyond heroes. We're going to need a miracle."

"If I were a hero like in one of your stories," Numina asked in a silky voice, "would I take your advice?"

"No," Varric chuckle dryly. "But you idiots really should."

Numina smiled, watching the fire dance in quick patterns, never repeating the same move twice. "I don't think the real heroes are the ones that carry the titles," she finally said, voicing a thought that had been with her for a while. "The real heroes are the ones who stand by their side and continue to do so long after." She turned to Varric. "Like you, Varric. You stood by the Champion's side all those years, and now you are fighting along the Inquisition."

Varric laughed. "You are too kind. But I am no hero."

She smiled playfully. "Isn't that exactly what a hero would say?"

"You have to admit she does have a point, Varric," Solas said, finally joining the conversation. "Most heroes are only as strong as the companions they've turned into friends, and that is because they carry some of the weight required of a hero as well." Solas' eyes met Numina's, and he gave her a small smile.

"Fine," Varric grumbled."Call me a hero if you'd like, just don't give me some ridiculous title like..."

"The Herald of Andraste?" Numina supplied with a wolfish grin. That got a few laughs from Varric and Solas, as the both agreed with her.

Cassandra finally returned with more firewood. Supper was prepared, and the four of them made some small talk while they ate, but it was just something to fill the silence. Afterwards, they chose the order in which they would take watch. Varric took the first one, saying that he had to clean Bianca anway. Numina picked the last shift. She was usually up much earlier than the sun and didn't mind getting up a few hours earlier than that.

Numina retreated into her little tent, resting her head on some balled up cloth for a pillow. Her eyes suddenly felt heavy and her muscles relaxed, adding to her weariness. She fell asleep easily with the sounds of the wilderness and the crackling fire lulling her into dreams.

~~.O.~~

Solas' dream had been very uninteresting. Nothing of any kind of import had happened in this forest, so there were not any memories to be found in the Fade. As he rose he heard a soft melody coming from outside his tent. It was beautiful, sounding as pleasant to the ears as sugary candy tasted and just as sweet. He exited the tent, looking for its source.

Numina was seated on a nearby rock a few paces away from the camp, bow in hand as she cleaned the dirt and grime off of it with a rag. She was singing a wordless tune, the notes dancing through the trees and the leaves.

The others were still asleep, it being still rather early. The sun had yet to rise, though the sky was a deep purple as some of the sun's ray snuck up the back of the sky. The moon and stars were still out, but slowly fading.

"Beautiful," Solas breathed. Numina jumped to her feet, startled to hear someone else at such an early hour. "I apologize for startling you. I had wanted...I was merely complimenting your singing," he stammered. "I have never heard that tune before."

Numina visibly relaxed and smiled, sitting once more on the stone. "The song is my own. I'm sorry if I woke you."

"You didn't," Solas reassured her, silently cursing himself for making this conversation more awkward and difficult than it needed to be. Silence took over, as Numina stared awkwardly at her hands and Solas looked off to the side. Finally Solas spoke a question, or rather a desire, of his. "Would you mind...continuing...with the words if there are any."

Numina's cheeks turned rosy pink with embarrassment. "The words are a bit more depressing than the melody might imply," she stammered, trying to dissuade him. But he was not. He looked at her earnestly, his eyes soft and almost as if they were saying _I do not mind_. Numina nodded slightly, giving her answer and looked at her hands. She had never really sung for anyone before. Certainly not in front of someone she hardly knew. _He only asked you to sing. Don't act like such a fool._ Numina picked up the bow in her hands and began cleaning it, drawing her mind off of her audience. She hummed softly at first, the intro to the song before she sang the words, a beautiful melody few could mimic:

_Crimson lights, the sky_

_The bird's still asleep_

_Like a dream, it shines_

_From heavens safe keep_

_Childrens songs, we sung_

_As soft as the breeze_

_Endless fields, our home_

_I long for those days_

_I call out these prayers to the sky_

_Heavy with thought_

_See your face_

_I carry these memories inside_

_Thoughts of a soul colored by love_

_See me grow wings and fly high_

_Passions will die, down below_

_I burn in a basin of fire_

_Watchers look on, as they dance in their merciless sky_

_Watching me, watching you_

_Silent black, the dawn_

_And time tells its tale_

_Darkened blood, it flows_

_The forest receives_

_Look within, the dark_

_As deep as you dare_

_There inside, you find_

_Destruction you seek_

_I call out these prayers to the sky_

_Heavy with thought_

_See your face_

_I carry these memories inside_

_Thoughts of a soul colored by love_

_See me grow wings and fly high_

_Passions will die, down below_

_I burn in a basin of fire_

_Watchers look on, as they dance in their merciless sky_

_Watching me, watching you, watching me_

Numina finished the song, bowing her head once more as embarrassment flooded her. During her song, Solas had closed his eyes, hoping to commit the words and the melody to memory. Opening his eyes, he could see how flustered she was. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," he said apologetically. "I simply..." he trailed off abandoning that sentence and picking up another. "Thank you for sharing it with me. Do you have a title for it?"

"Um... No," she answered. "I haven't really thought of giving it one. But we should- we should start packing up others will be waking up soon." With that, Numina rose to her feet in a rush, moving over to her tent and began deconstructing it and packing the rest of her gear.

It wasn't too long after that, that both Cassandra and Varric rose. They finished packing up camp, loading their things onto their horse, before having a small breakfast of bread and dried meat. The group then struck out to the east, hoping that today they would finally make it to Leliana's scouts' camp outside of the Crossroads.

The trees were dense in this part of the forest, casting the floor in a near solid shadow. Numina felt at home here. Birds fluttered from branch to branch, singing their myriad of songs to one another. For a long time, the sounds of the forest, along with the horse's hooves, was all you could hear. The group kept up a good pace and they hadn't run across any bandits or warring Templars or Mages.

It was a serene and tranquil place. The light filtering almost romantically through the leaves. The soft and spongy grass slightly giving way underfoot. The smell of pine and wildflowers lingering and wafting through the air on gentle breezes. Despite what she would say negatively about the Dalish, Numina would not wish to be anything else. It was because of growing up in her clan that she felt a strong connection with nature. She felt more relaxed and safe amongst the trees than she ever could in the most impenetrable fortress. Numina knew the rhythms of the forest and how to flourish beneath the leafy canopy, or the windswept plains, or the snowy mountain peaks. No. She would not trade her experience or heritage as a Dalish elf for anything in the world.

Presently, she began humming her soft tune once more. It drew a small smile from Solas, as well as from Cassandra and Varric. While it was peaceful, the light melody made the journey more pleasant. It lifted the worry from their hearts and drew their minds from the troubling matters that loomed so far above them. Ominously. Hanging in the sky.

~~.O.~~

Author's Note:

The Song that I have Numina singing is called Growing Wings from Drakengard 2. Here's a link if you wish to listen to it: Drakengard 2 Music - Growing Wings: /HCN3J3EnzVM

I thought it was a rather beautiful song and it just seemed perfect in and out of context, honestly.

Also,I apologize strongly for the overabundance of dialogue in this chapter. Unfortunately I find it at least somewhat necessary for the plot to make sense.

Next chapter will hopefully have less talking and more fighting scenes and more fluffy nonsense stuff that I just squeal over. ;)

Thank you for reading and feel free to let me know if there is some kind of error in the story that needs to be fixed.


	4. Chapter 4

Rage is a Poison

The Hinterlands was severely wounded. Scars of fire, charring the earth flourished where green fields should have spread out in ethereal splendor. Houses were destroyed either by inferno and explosion, leaving splinters and timbers of wooded scattered haphazardly where there was once a home. _This is why the Conclave was needed,_ Numina realized._ This is what happened when it was destroyed. _

Towering columns of ice erupted from the ground as frequently as it was marred by flame. Sometime the jagged teeth were empty, almost beautiful. More often than not, though, there were bodies, Templars, encased in the ice.

The Mages were out of control. They attacked anything in sight, Templar, bandit, or innocent. Numina could understand their plight, but what she didn't understand was how that gave them sanction to cause destruction like this on the insurmountable scale it was. Magic was dangerous, and the mages now used it unrestrained, making their control over it minimal. They had no idea what they were doing; they just knew that they wanted to be free, and everyone was suffering because of it.

The Templars were out of control. They attacked anything in sight, whether it was a mage, bandit, or innocent. Numina could have believed that they were trying to reinstate order, that the mages could not have complete freedom because of the danger they possessed. But they killed without restraint. And what made it worse was that the Templars claimed they had authority and reason when they killed mercilessly and cruelly. They were acting within their jurisdiction when they lit a house that apostates had locked themselves in on fire. They were protecting innocents when they slaughtered and elven farmer, mistaking his shovel for a staff.

Templars and Mages. This war and its brutality. All of it infuriated and sickened Numina.

After several days spent at the Crossroads, helping the Inquisition's soldiers better secure a foothold from the war, tending to the wounded, and securing food and other necessary supplies for the refugees; Numina made the decision that they were going to drive the bulk of the fighting out of the Hinterlands.

Cassandra had argued. She insisted that they should travel to Val Royeaux and appeal to certain members of the Chantry, as Mother Giselle had suggested to them before heading back to Haven as an agent of the Inquisition, giving her aid and support. But Numina was adamant. It was what the people here needed. Finally what convinced Cassandra was the fact that doing this would spread the Inquisition's influence and it would also make transporting Master Dennet's horses back to Haven once they spoke with him that much easier.

That is why they were now in such a dismal place in the Hinterlands' beautiful landscape. Witchwood was an adequate name for this location. Fog cloaked the area like an unwelcome blanket. Gnarled, leafless trees twisted and convulsed, reaching towards the sky for light that was muffled in the fog. Their branches were like fingers, grasping and snatching at anything that passed by. This place truly felt as though it had been cursed like a witch.

Witchwood was situated beside steep and rocky slopes, Numina had the idea that perhaps the apostates were holed up in a cave. Some scribbled notes found in a dead apostates robes had confirmed.

"We must be getting close," Numina said as more and more spires of icy fangs tore upwards in dangerous brilliance.

Grabbing her bow and keeping an arrow at the ready, the group snuck forwards quietly, hoping to gain the element of surprise. Before them was the apostates camp. There were five mages walking along a frozen pond in between ice barriers they had created in defense. Behind them was the mouth of a cave, protected by a barrier. While the ice may have been effective for a large force, the four of them easily slipped between a gap, stealing their way into the center.

Numina looked to her comrades to see if they were ready. All of them looked back with determination. "Solas, try to keep a barrier around us and stay towards the back," she said. He gave her a nod in affirmation. "Varric, I want you to flank left, but stay close to the icy defenses they put up; it should keep area of effect spells at bay."

"Will do," Varric breathed.

"Cassandra-"

"Charge from the front and hit them hard," Cassandra interrupted, clearly knowing what to do.

"I'll cover you," Numina added with a nod.

At that moment, the world to seem to take in its breath. The air was unnaturally still, their enemies movements seemed to slow down. Everything was waiting for the sudden release, the exhale.

If you listened closely, you might have heard a soft whistle. If you didn't, you still would have heard the thump. And even if you were going deaf, you would have heard the apostate's shout in pain as Numina's arrow struck him in the shoulder.

The exhale. Everything picked up speed.

Cassandra let out a roar as she charged one of the nearest apostates. Numina had already fired two more arrows into her enemy, killing him. Varric was picking off one of the apostates towards the back, catching him by surprise having successfully flanked them. Solas had cast a barrier over his allies, light blue silhouettes hanging above their bodies.

There was a moment where Numina was focussing on one of the apostates attacking Cassandra as she dealt with someone else that she didn't see the last apostate, redouble his efforts, focusing them on her instead. Varric had noticed, but unfortunately, he couldn't attack without potentially hitting Cassandra. When Numina finally noticed the last apostate, angry red flames were racing towards her. There was no where she could go, though. She had intentionally placed herself there so she would be a shield for Solas, most likely having attacks directed at her rather than him. If she moved, Solas would face the fire.

The fire's heat never reached her, though. Ice sprouted in front of her, rising to her height in many crystalline shards. Flames scattered to the sides in a myriad of sparks as it stuck the ice. Numina looked back to Solas and gave him a nod of thanks before rushing out from her icy cover.

With an arrow drawn she looked to her target and fired, her aim being true. The apostate made a soft gurgle as he fell, arrow lodged in his throat. He was the last of the mage forces outside of the barrier. Hastily, they moved forwards to the barrier. It glowed blue with winters touch.

"This barrier is based solely on magic involving ice," Solas said. "If we use it's natural opposite-"

Lightning arched and bolted through the air, striking the barrier. It burrowed a hole through it, and raced towards the back of the cave where the rest of the apostates were cowering. Seeking its way to the ground, it found a suitable path: directly through one of the mages along the far wall.

The barrier exploded violently with frost and ice scattering across the opening of the cave. Inside, cries of alarm echoed. Numina fitted an arrow into her bow and walked up beside Solas and Cassandra, "Or if the barrier is weak enough, any element of magic will do," she said smugly.

Cassandra let out a disgusted snort before charging at the rest of the apostates that were still recovering from Numina's initial attack. The group made short work of the remaining mages. They clearly had no defensive plan prepared, assuming that their barriers would have been enough. Before they left the cave to turn their attention to the Templars, Cassandra carved the Inquisition's coat of arms into the cave's soil floor as the others lit everything in the cave on fire. It was to show any stragglers that they were not welcome here.

~~.O.~~

The Templars were much more difficult to weed out. They were very organized, establishing actual patrols in the surrounding area well enough so that you could not establish the exact location they were protecting. What gave them away, however, were the two guards they had stationed on the path that lead to their camp.

Fighting and finishing off the Templars was actually much easier than with the mages. Here the group only had to worry about the occasional arrow or shield bash, rather than the four elements harnessed in destructive ways with magic. Although Numina did not rely on magic at all, when the Templars would use their abilities to dampen and cancel out magic, she would get a pounding headache and feel slightly dizzy. She assumed that it was worse for Solas though by the strings of elvish phrases he would hiss, no doubt cursing them.

It was now dusk, and they were all weary from the day's fighting, but they were satisfied with themselves. They had destroyed the camps of both the Templars and Mages and hopefully the Hinterlands would be much safer for the inhabitants.

Numina had spotted a good place to camp, it was a small cave, slightly bigger than an alcove, along the side of a steep slope. They were surrounded by trees, offering good cover from unfriendly eyes. Their horse was tied up, unburdened by their gear. Tents were pitched, but they decided against a fire tonight, eating their food cold.

Tonight Numina offered to take the first shift. The day's early engagements leaving her more awake than tired. As her comrades settled down on their bedrolls, Numina situated herself off to the right of the cave's entrance. There she sat, cross-legged in the grass. She placed her bow and a few of her arrows on her lap, having set her quiver off to the side. Closing her eyes, she focused and then drifted as her Keeper had taught her.

Through meditation, Numina could feel the world around her. With unnatural clarity, she could hear the sounds of the forest: the insects buzzing, the small animals shuffling around in the grass and leaves, and the occasional hoot of an owl. There Numina sat still as the whole word moved and swirled around her.

For a few hours she remained like this, listening and feeling the forest and those inhabiting it. That's when she heard it. At first it was soft shuffling, but it was something larger than a simple mose. Next came the sharp snap of a twig, ringing in Numina's ears, thunder from silence. She had to fight off the urge to open her eyes and look for its source. If she did, she wouldn't see anything anyway; the moon was shrouded in wispy clouds, making it almost impossible to see more than a foot or two in front of you.

"Quiet!" a man's voice hissed.

"The tracks lead this way," another man whispered

"Are we any closer?"

"We must be. Pretty soon we'll be hitting the side of a mountain."

"It's time they paid for killing our brothers and sisters!" came a vengeful voice.

That was all Numina needed to hear. _Templars. They must have tracked us from the camp._ Quietly she sprang to her feet. She entered the cave, thankful that they had decided against a fire. She went about waking up the others, starting with Solas. She placed a hand firmly over his mouth, waking him up. He woke up with a start, reaching for his staff nearby. The anger and slight panic dissolved from his eyes when he saw it was Numina. She removed his hand.

"Templars followed us," she whispered. "Wake up Varric." Numina didn't wait to see him agree, she quickly moved on to Cassandra, waking her in a similar fashion. Although, she was much more violent when woken up.

There was not enough to pack up their things. They only had enough time to sneak quietly out of the cave and head in the opposite direction of the bumbling Templars. Numina's breath was caught as she did all she could to remain silent.

It was blacker than tar outside and just as thick and slippery. It was difficult to see anything, making the option of evading the Templars nonexistent. Numina and her companions were going to have to fight their way out of here. Judging by the tension she could see and feel in her companions, they had already formed the same conclusion.

"Solas," she breathed more quietly than a whisper, "on my signal, light some of the trees on fire." Numina barely saw him nod in understanding in the darkness, but with how focused they were at listening for their enemies, she knew that he had heard her.

"They set up camp here," one of the Templars whispered.

"But where are they now?"

"The bedrolls are still warm," another answered. "They couldn't have gotten far."

"Everyone, out of the cave and spread out. Find them!"

Metal greaves scraped against the stone floors of the cave as they all shuffled out. Numina was listening intently, waiting for the best moment to take them for surprise. On her left, she heard Cassandra take in a hiss of breath out of impatience and nervousness. Varric shuffled slightly, repositioning Bianca. Solas stood immobilized, staff at the ready and a spell of flame dancing on his fingertips, his will kept at bay so as not to alert the Templars. Numina had drawn her bow, arrow at the ready, her arrow was trained towards the sounds of the Templars since she could not see them.

Finally the sound she was waiting for drifted to her ears, they had exited the cave and were in the forest with them, still clustered together since they hadn't had time to properly spread out and search the area. Nor would they.

A twig snapped. "Now!" she hissed.

Three trees off of the companion's left sprang up in roaring flame spontaneously. Cries of alarm echoed from the Templars. The sudden light caused a few of the undisciplined ones to shield their eyes. Numina had to squint at the light, but she let loose her arrow, and it struck their archer in the gut as Cassandra rushed forward. Her shield bashing against one of their warriors, sending him tumbling backwards. Varric and Numina took aim for the same warrior, turning him into a pincushion for their arrows. Solas froze the last warrior that carried the shield as well as Cassandra turned her attention to him, having finished off her first enemy.

Their adversaries were no more. "That was surprisingly easy," Varric said, shouldering Bianca.

"I almost regret waking you up," Numina said teasingly, her adrenaline making her words fluttery. "Almost."

"I wish you hadn't," Cassandra added, a small smirk playing at her lips. "I need my beauty sleep."

"Seeker," Varric started, "all the beauty sleep in the world couldn't help you."

Their laughter echoed across the forest joined with the sound of the fire still crackling in the trees. It was pleasant on the ears on and their hearts. Things could have been much worse. They were fortunate that they were able to deal with the Templars so quickly.

But their rush could have been viewed as reckless. And their laughter did not just fall on the forest. They reached the ears of an archer, the one Numina had opened her attack with. He had not died yet, though he had no illusions that he would soon perish. Shaking hands held his bow as he fitted an arrow on the string. Beside him was a crushed bottle of black liquid, he dipped the arrow into it before taking aim. _It's always the fucking mages. _he thought bitterly. "I will take you with me apostate!"

It was the shuffling that Numina heard first. The fire burning in the tree tops nearly overwhelming it. Her eyes searched the shadowed wood for the source, Varric's jokes drawing the others' attention, distracting them from noticing it. With his last curse, she had seen the remaining enemy and where he was aiming.

"Solas!" she exclaimed, though there was no point in warning him. He would not have been able to react in time. Why she warned him at all was beyond her understanding, reflex maybe. It was not needed, however, because as she said his name, Numina was already shoving him out of the way.

The arrowed shot through the air and buried itself into her shoulder. Though she knew it was coming, she still let out a small yelp of pain. Her reaction was almost instantaneous though. She raised her left hand and a ball of fire raced from her palm to the archer. Screams as he burned were silenced quickly once he died.

"Are you alright?" Solas said, rising to his feet.

"Minus the arrow? Yeah." She snapped off part of the shaft to make it easier to manage. Solas approached her, his eyes silently asking for permission. Numina removed her hand she was using to keep pressure on the wound, her right shoulder throbbing and her muscles screaming as even the slightest of movements would send her muscles rapping against the arrow embedded amongst them.

"We will scout the area and see if their are any more templars lurking about," Cassandra informed them, previous levitivity evaporated from the atmosphere.

"That would be a good idea," Numina laughed nervously.

At Solas' motioning, they both sat on an old fallen tree and he addressed her wound. He kept a blank face as he went to work, pressing on the area around her wound. Numina would occasionally flinch or hiss with discomfort and pain, but Solas remained stoic. She couldn't read anything from his expression not for lack of trying.

His hands were gentle and he moved his way around her wound with skill, avoiding jarring the arrow and causing her additional pain. Finally he said something, "You shouldn't have taken that arrow for me." His voice was neither chastising or condescending. Instead it sounded sad, like he wished Numina hadn't taken the arrow for her sake alone. He reached for the pouch he carried on his belt, pulling out torn strips of cloth he was going to use.

"Better my shoulder than-"

Sharp searing pain spread like flames from her wound, burning her muscles and flesh. She cried out with it, surprised by Solas suddenly removing the arrow from her shoulder. He examined the arrow for a second, unable to see very clearly in the dying light the the trees fires. He missed the black residue lingering on the shaft close to the arrowhead.

Solas cast the arrow aside before pressing cloth onto her wound to stem the tide of bleeding. Numina was breathing heavily, focusing on control, fighting the first few trendles of unconsciousness that reached out to her. "No, it is not better that you received this wound," Solas continued. "You have the mark, the only thing that may stop the chaos in this world. You must put value in that."

"Is that the only reason?" Numina breathed. His words brought her a bit of sadness. Of all the people that she knew, she had hoped that Solas would at least see her as Numina, and not some tool to fix messes beyond anyone else.

Solas frowned at Numina's question, his voice reacting quickly with thoughts he would not want to say at the moment. "No. Losing you would..." he caught himself _hurt? Now is not the time._ "The world would be at a great loss if we were to lose someone so kind and intuitive as yourself," he finished, offering her a compliment that was the truth but not the truth he had wanted to say. _Not yet. Not ever,_ he thought with resolve.

A small, weak smile touched Numina's lips. _At least I am someone to him,_ she thought pleasantly.

Cassandra and Varric returned announcing that there were no more Templars in the immediate area, though they should move on to be safe. All of them agreed to once Solas had finished dressing and binding Numina's wound. They packed their gear as quickly as they could without forgetting anything. Frustration filled Numina as she was unable to gather her things without Solas' help. Upon hearing her let out a sigh in frustration, he said "I do not mind. None of us do." He spoke about her needed assistance in certain tasks that would have been simple if her right arm were not in a sling.

The horse was loaded with their supplies, all thankful that the ropes had been tied tightly so that the horse could not have bolted away. Nothing was done with the bodies of the Templars as they left. It was wordlessly agreed that they would be left for scavengers.

Cassandra led the way forward, leading the horse alongside her. Varric was beside her, the two of them finally getting along. Numina followed, a few paces behind. Solas was beside her, watchful eyes monitoring her condition. The four of them traveled like this slowly, the darkness limiting their speed. Earlier in the day, they had decided to return to the crossroads to replenish their supplies before trekking to Redcliffe's farms in case they found themselves for more than a couple of days.

At the first instance, Solas thought nothing of it. The second time, he thought it might have been a hidden root or branch. The third time, he turned to her to see if she was alright receiving a smile that said _"I'm fine."_ Still, Solas worried about her and found himself watching her more closely. The fourth time Numina stumbled, she nearly fell. Solas was there, though, he stabilized her, waving for Varric to continue walking, as he had turned back to see what the noise was.

"I thought the Dalish to be more surefooted than most while in the wilderness," he said softly, almost playfully, as he steadied her.

"Laugh it up," she chuckled weakly. "I'm just a bit light headed, is all."

Solas didn't believe her. Even on this cloudy night, he could tell that she looked paler than usual. She had minimal blood loss, so that couldn't account for her sickly look. "Are you sure?" he asked, instinctively reaching a had for her forehead.

But Numina caught his wrist gently, firmly. "I am fine, lethallin," she reassured with a small smile. Solas nodded before reclaiming his hand.

Doubt still lingered in his mind, but he did not voice it. And he was right to doubt her 's skin burned hotter than fire, yet her body shivered with cold that clung to every inch of her. Her wound throbbed and her head was pounding furiously. Her sense of balance was askewed, causing her to trip easily where others, even herself, would not. Whatever she looked at would fade in and out of clarity, blurring amongst the mass background of black; adding to her ever increasing headache. But she could not let them know. _I will not be a burden again,_ she angrily vowed, no, begged herself. _We must get a safe distance away from our camp._

Onward she struggled, stumbling and tripping ever so often. Solas was always there though, worry painted on his features as he helped her regain balance. A part of Numina wished he would notice the heat that she felt was surging off of her like waves. It went on like this for an hour, weariness gripping her tighter and tighter. It was difficult for her eyes to remain open or for her feet to lift off of the ground, but her will and determination, her stubbornness, kept her from stopping or asking for help.

She did not realize she had fallen until Solas was helping her up. One arm snaked around waste, the other grabbing her left arm positioning it over his own shoulders. "-ina? -hear me?" he asked, sentences only coming in patches. Numina shook her head, trying to clear the fog that seemed to settle on her mind. "-ssandra-ust stop-s-thing is wrong!" Solas' voice sounded wrong. Distant and warped. At his gentle urgings, she tried to walk, but her legs would not cooperate. A string of elven curses hissed from Solas' lips as he quickly switched from supporting her to carrying her. "Here-ave to do." He could feel Numina's light and slender frame shivering fiercely against his own. "Cassandra-bedroll-our blankets-arric-eed light!"

Solas set her down lightly on something soft and comfortable. Her mind and thoughts were to muddled for her to recognize things around her or what was happening. Soft fabric smothered her arms and legs in layers. A light blazed with life, it's intensity overwhelming Numina. She lifted her good arm to shield her eyes. But Solas just as quickly and gently snatched her arm away, placing a hand on her cheek. It felt like cool water to her burning skin, and Numina leaned into his hand. "Look at me," he whispered. Her pale green and blue eyes met his stormy grey eyes that were thunderous with worry.

"Her pupils are dilated," he said to the others. Numina was no longer able to discern any of the words he or the others said.

"Poison," Varric clarified grimly. "Let me see her wound." He removed his gloves and knelt next to Numina, across from Solas. Cassandra stood a little ways off, by the horse as she once more unburdened the beast.

Noting that the rogue probably had more knowledge on poisons than he did, Solas grabbed the small dagger he kept on his belt and cut through Numina's bandages. What they saw was not pleasant.

Black ooze tainted the outside edges of her wound. Some of the poison had leaked out with the puss and blood her body was naturally expelling. Varric scrunched his nose at the sight before carefully reaching a finger out, touching the black liquid. He sniffed the small dab before tasting it. He immediately spat it out, "Shit!" he swore, rising to his feet with an anger and vehemence that shocked both Cassandra and Solas.

"What is it?" Cassandra asked.

"Desire's Nightshade," Varric explained solemnly. "It's something new. Some idiot in Antiva discovered it."

"Is there an antidote?" Solas was next to ask.

"Yes, and lucky for you, I know more than just a few stories," Varric said. "We must leave now, Cassandra. We don't have all the necessary herbs to construct the antidote." He turned to Solas. "We will head for the Crossroads and leave you the horse. If she gets worse and it doesn't look that we will be arriving any time soon..."

"You will make it back," Solas said.

"We will," Varric agreed. "But I will leave instructions with the healer there for you in case."

The two of them quickly ran off, time being of the essence. Solas remained behind, tending to Numina. He began by forcing her to drink one of the few remaining healing potions they had. She had to strain to remain upright as she drank the potion, collapsing once she had finished. Next came her wound. Solas began cleaning it as fluidly as he could, but he did need to scrape softly against the wound to remove the poison that was caked to the edges. The pain she felt would have normally been uncomfortable, but bearable; however, in her weakened state, Numina quickly fell into unconsciousness.

Her wound was clean with fresh bandages. Solas sat beside her, hands working a slight spell of ice over a clean piece of cloth he had, cooling it down. He placed it gently on her forehead, his fingertips gently brushing against her burning skin. Numina's brow was furrowed, her body occasionally shivered as it reacted to the poison that raged within her.

Solas sighed. _There is nothing more for me to do. _Rising to his feet, he placed wards around the camp that had been hastily set. The horse whinnied softly to him before going back to its grazing. Solas once more took his post beside Numina, something he was becoming quite familiar with. _This is the third time that she has nearly died since this madness all began. All of which apparently stemmed from her acting selflessly, throwing herself into danger in the odds that someone else may be spared._

His thoughts were interrupted, though, as Numina started thrashing slightly.

"No, don't!" she whimpered softly. "No!" Numina was responding to her dream. Solas thought about trying to wake her when the next words she uttered stopped him. "Fen'Harel save her!"

His curiosity got the better of him. He rarely traveled in the dreams of others, often finding them to be simple and uninteresting. So far, Numina had been one of the rare exceptions. Solas reached out, placing his hand or her arm lightly and closed his eyes. He relaxed letting himself drift far away, entering the Fade almost unconsciously.

It was not hard to find Numina's dream. It was a source of anguish that silenced all in this area of the Fade. He made his way to the edge of her dream and watched. Silver eyes gleaming.

_"No! Don't kill it!" a little girl screamed. Trying frantically to tear herself free of an adult's grasp. They were all Dalish, though the child's face was unmarked, innocent, aside from the tears that streamed down her cheeks._

_"Da'len, it is a wolf. We cannot allow it to be so close to the rest of the clan," one of the elves said._

_"She hasn't hurt anybody!" the girl wailed_

_"It's no use Keeper," another elf chimed in. "She won't listen to reason."_

_"She may be a child," the Keeper responded bitterly, "but she has more common sense than most."_

_The little girl had been quiet, but suddenly seeing an opportunity, she bit the one who was restraining her. He cried out in pain, shoving the girl harshly to the ground. That is when the wolf, the one that had been standing proudly yet silently and non-threateningly, reacted. Crouching down low, the wolf began to growl at the man who had shoved the little girl. One of the elves responded in kind by drawing his bow and aiming at the now menacing wolf._

_"No!" the little girl cried, throwing herself at the wolf. She locked her arms around its neck, hugging it tightly._

_Audible gasps came from the gathered elves as the wolf did not attack the girl. Instead it relaxed, dropping the snarl and silencing. No one moved for several moments. It was a standoff between the elves and the wolf with the little girl trying to keep the fighting from taking place, trying to keep both sides alive._

_Finally, it was the wolf that moved first. Shaking its head slightly, the little girl let go of its soft coat. It then retreated a few steps. Its soft eyes trained on the girl, its friend._

_Strong arms wrapped around the girl tightly, hoisting her up in the air. The girl began thrashing in a panic. "No! Don't!" she screeched. "Fen'Harel, save her!" The girl's prayer had fallen on deaf ears though, as the sound of pained whimpering escaped the wolf as it was slain. As it died, the girl became unnaturally still. The tears that had rained upon her face had even stopped._

_The elf that had dragged the girl away from her friend let her go, softly placing her back onto her feet. Her head was lowered, bangs obscuring her face. She whispered something softly._

_"What did you say, da'len?" the Keeper asked softly, sympathetically._

_"I said," the girl began, her voice dripping with malice that should not be possible for one so young to feel, "may the Dread Wolf take you all!" With that, the girl spun around and ran off, leaving the others far behind her._

_"Numina wait!" the Keeper cried out, but she was long gone._

The scenery of the dream began to fade steadily. Numina would soon wake up. _It wasn't a dream, _ Solas thought has he returned from the fade. _It was a memory. A well formed memory at that. Most can only get the general picture of their memories, but hers had exceptional detail._

Numina frowned and began to stir. Solas was roused from his thoughts. It was now dawn, and thankfully she was still alive. Her memory had been lucid, and Solas had slight hope that Numina would be as well.

"What-what happened?" she asked weakly. The fog on her mind was gone, thanks to the healing potion, but the poison still surged through her unhindered.

Solas couldn't stop himself from letting out a sigh of relief. "Do you remember anything?"

Numina thought for a moment. "I fell," she answered.

Solas nodded. "The arrow you were injured with was laced with poison, which is still burning through your veins."

"Literally," she added, weak smile on her lips.

He couldn't help but smile. Even when faced with her own death, she was still light-hearted. "Cassandra and Varric are retrieving the necessary herbs for an antidote."

"And you are left with the task of trying to keep me alive once more. It seems I owe you an even greater debt now."

Solas shook his head. "I could not watch-let you die," he said, failing to catch himself. "You are... too important to...the Inquisition."

Numina noticed his slip, but did not mention it. Instead she closed her eyes, silently wishing to be back in the Fade once more, even if it meant another unhappy memory. Anything would be better than the searing pain that ached throughout her entire body, pure agony. "Will you tell me of your adventures in the Fade?" she asked. "Your voice is...soothing. And it may distract-" Numina let out a soft gasp as a wave of pain stronger than the rest washed over her.

Solas looked at her, worry etched in his expression before nodding. "Of course." He then searched for a memory that might interest her. "Would you care to hear of the Battle at Ostagar during the Fifth Blight?"

A smile tugged at her lips once more. "The Grey Wardens have always fascinated me," she admitted.

And thus, Solas dived into his narrative of the memory he experienced in the Fade. Numina quietly listened, her eyes closed as she drank in every word that he said. Occasionally, she would ask a question or two, but Solas did not mind. Her inquisitive nature was endearing. As he finished, Solas finally noticed that Numina was once again asleep. He could not help but smile. It faded quickly though when he reached a hand to her forehead. Numina's fever had gotten worse.

~~.O.~~

"Tell me that we are not too late," Cassandra panted, her face red from running. She quickly thrust a bottle containing a green liquid. "Varric had me run ahead. He said that she needs to drink half, and the other half needs to go into the wound just as the poison had."

Solas nodded, leaning down to Numina. "Wake up," he commanded, his words laced with magic, snaking their way to the far corners of her dream. Numina shook her head lightly, frowning before she finally opened her eyes, squinting in the sunlight. "I need you to sit up," he told her softly. She nodded and did her best to help, but it was mainly Solas propping her up that allowed her to sit. "You need to drink half of this." He held the bottle containing the antidote up to her.

Numina weakly grasped it and removed the stopper on top. A pungent smell seeped out of it, causing even Cassandra to wrinkle her nose at it. "Can I choose death by poison instead," she joked fraily. Solas gave her a look as though he were chastising a child. "No? Alright..." she sighed.

It was thick like paste and it stuck to her throat as she swallowed it. On her first gulp she nearly gagged, throwing it all back up. There were not enough words for her to describe just how disgusting the antidote was. When she finished half of it off, she began to cough in attempt to clear her throat of the slimy liquid, handing the remaining potion back to Solas. "Yup," she coughed, growing weaker with each one. "I would have chosen the poison."

Solas ignored her. "Cassandra, I will need you to hold her legs in case she thrashes."

"Why would I thrash about?"

"You drank the potion so that it would stop the poison in your organs," he explained figuring out the reason behind Varric's instructions earlier. "It would take time you may not have for it to reach your bloodstream, unless..."

"I will do my best not to kick you," Numina said to Cassandra, figuring out where Solas was going. Her wound.

Solas removed the bandages covering her wound. It was much cleaner than the last time he had removed them. "Ir abelas, lethallan," he whispered softly. He braced his left arm across her collarbone, taking care not to apply too much force. She felt so fragile. Numina shuffled a little bit, looking up at the sky, her eyes cold with determination and a will to remain in control. Cassandra was crouching over Numina's legs, he arms braced against them on either side of her knee.

As Solas applied the antidote to the wound, Numina would jerk in reflex, an automatic attempt to run away from the pain. Much to Solas' surprise, she was able to maintain consciousness, but ultimately the strain and effort weakened her. She passed out towards the end. Truth be told, he almost wished that she had fallen unconscious sooner, lessening the suffering she had to endure.

The bottle empty, Solas tossed it to the side, letting out a breath he had not realized he had been holding. Leaned back, his muscles relaxing after holding himself tensely over Numina. "Do you think it worked?" Cassandra asked him.

"I do not know. All we can do is wait."

Cassandra nodded. "Get some sleep Solas," she said. "I will watch over her. If there is any change, I will wake you immediately."

Solas nearly argued with the Seeker. She had been the one to run too and from the Crossroads. Yet he felt weary, so he selfishly did as Cassandra said, laying out a second bedroll a short distance away. He fell asleep quickly, slipping into the Fade as his body rested.

~~.O.~~

Solas woke up to the sound of light laughter.

"And then Hawke looks back at all of us and says, 'I wanted a new pair of shoes.' The High Dragon was smoldering slightly behind her and all of us just gaping at her. We had just taken on a High Dragon for her new shoes!" Varric exclaimed humorously. "She had this stupid smirk on her face. That is what eventually made us all laugh. Hell, she even got Anders and Fenris to laugh, and those two were the most depressing people I've ever met."

Numina's laughter echoed throughout the camp. It was lively this time though, not weak and pitiful as it had been. Solas stood up and leaned against a tree a little ways off, small smile on his lips. He was glad to see that she was doing much better. "It sounds like those two would get along," she remarked.

"And you would be wrong. If Broody-Fenris- wasn't trying to kill Blondie-Anders- all the time, then Blondie would be goading Broody into trying to kill him." Varric said incredulously.

"Who was the cat and who was the mouse?" she asked with a smile.

"Eh... Fenris was more of a wolf," Varric started, "And Anders...he was the cat."

"A cat who destroyed a Chantry," Cassandra added displeasingly.

"I honestly didn't think he had it in him," Varric grumbled. That's when the rogue noticed Solas. "Hey, look who finally woke up! You slept nearly as long as she did."

"I did?"

"Yes, it's afternoon of the following day."

"I apologize," Solas said with a bow of his head. "I had not intended on sleeping for so long."

"Don't be," Numina said, flashing him a smile. "I only woke up an hour or so ago myself." The color had yet to return fully to her skin, but she looked much healthier. Her eyes that had been dull and glazed over were now shining with life that had been nearly snuffed out. Her arm was once more in a sling and fresh bandages were wrapped around her shoulder.

"Now that you're awake," Cassandra started, "we can continue on to the Crossroads for our supplies."

Once more the group packed up and left. Cassandra taking the lead with the horse and the rest following behind. Numina still felt a little weak, lingering consequences of the poison, but she was able to carry on just fine. Solas remained by her side, though. Just in case. And she was thankful for his presence and his concern.

~~.O.~~

"Mind if I join you?" asked a friendly voice.

Numina looked up and smiled at Solas. "Not at all." She had been caught up in a book that she had found earlier, but she did not mind his interruption. He gave her a smile of thanks before seating himself next to her on the dock. It overlooked the frozen lake in Haven, the swirling symphony of green reflected on its surface.

It had been a couple of weeks since the incident with the poisoned arrow. She had recovered from the wound, a small mar on her skin where a scar would serve as a reminder. Master Dennet and his magnificent horses had joined the Inquisition at haven. And the Hinterlands was now clear of Templars, Mages, and bandits. The refugees were finally safe. Peace had returned to the land through the Inquisitions efforts, through Numina's efforts. Even while wounded, she had insisted on helping deal with the bandits and clearing out all of the rifts that plagued the land. She had even recruited a cult that worshipped the Breach to spread word of the Inquisition, casting them in a near holy light. Numina's work, with the help of Cassandra, Solas, and Varric, had done wonders for the Inquisition's reputation and influence. Josephine had even said that they might stand a chance in Val Royeaux when meeting with the Chantry as the necessary preparations were made. The plan was to leave tomorrow.

Numina turned back to her book, noticing that Solas sat in ethereal stillness. _Meditating,_ Numina realized. She smiled, remembering her own meditations she used to have back in her forests. For they were her forests .She had spent so much time in them with her clan that she knew them almost intimately. The words on the page began to blur together as her mind wandered. After rereading the same page several times over and still not knowing what it said, Numina closed the book softly and let her thoughts take her where they wanted to go.

Her thoughts brought her to dwell on her location. It wasn't the quietest spot, but she liked it for the atmosphere. The ice on the lake made it feel as if the world was perfectly still, yet the sound of the Inquisition's soldiers betrayed that feeling with the quick pace of battle, even if it was only training. The two aspects clashing sung harmony with her own feelings that she could not express nor did she have anyone to express them to.

She wanted to be still like the ice, locked in place with peace. Not fretting, not worrying, not fighting against forces outside of her comprehension like she had been with her clan in the forests. But at the same time, Numina enjoyed the fighting, not for the sake of sport or bloodshed. She enjoyed the fast pace, the reflexivity, and the skill you needed for it. It was a war between desires, and at the very heart of it, Numina wished that she could go back to her clan, to the forests, to childish fights amongst her clan members that did not involve holes in the sky. But she didn't. If she were not here,someone else would have to take her place as the one to try and fix things. And if no one did or no one could, countless people would die. She wished for peace, but she would have to fight for it for everyone else before she could gain it herself. That was the price.

"I wish..." she whispered quietly, unaware that she had.

"You wish for what?" Solas asked drawn from his meditation.

"I apologize, Solas," Numina said. "I did not mean to disturb you. I was merely lost in my own thoughts."

"It is no trouble," he said with a smile. "Unless they are troubling thoughts. Perhaps I can help?"

"I was thinking of my home," she admitted. "I've spent my whole life with my clan. They are my family, and as much as I speak ill of some of our ways, I do miss them and the atmosphere. I wish I could go back and leave this madness. But I cannot, nor would I want to. Too many lives depend on me staying here and fighting for them."

Solas nodded. Things could not go back to the way they were for anyone here, least of all her. Change begets change."Did you leave anyone special behind?" It was a simple enough question. If she had left someone dear to her heart behind, it could account for her sadness being worse.

Though Numina was left to wonder why Solas had asked that particular question. "Only close friends," she answered. "Though one did wish it was more."

"I know that you will see them again," Solas said comfortingly, though he could see that she doubted his words. "Though you do not use it, it is clear to me that you trained your will to control magic and withstand possession. It is a control that you exert in most aspects of your life. Your indomitable focus is unparalleled on the battlefield and is an enjoyable side benefit. You have chosen a path whose steps you do not dislike because it leads to a destination you desire: safety and peace for others. Traits that I admire in you. There is no doubt in my mind that your path will lead you back to your clan if you want it to."

Numina smiled, at his words, but then something came over her. "Indomitable focus?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him, her smile turning into a smirk.

"Presumably," he said, trying to be careful, though he could not help a teasing inflection grace his words. "I have yet to see it dominated. I imagine that the sight would be... fascinating."

"Hmm," she giggled softly, making his cheeks turn a soft shade a pink.

"You are fortunate in the fact that you will have friends and family to return to once this is all over," Solas continued, trying to steer the conversation away from the flirting.

"Do you not have friends or family to return to?"

"I do not have any family to speak of," he answered. Numina could hear sorrow in his voice. "I do have friends, though not in a sense that you would easily recognize."

"I might surprise you," Numina said, urging him to continue.

"I have spent most my life studying the Fade, though I did not do so alone. I have built many lasting friendships," Solas explained. "Spirits of wisdom, possessed of ancient knowledge, happy to share what they have seen. Spirits of purpose helped me search. Even wisps, curious and playful, would point out treasures that I might have missed."

"I don't believe I have ever met a spirit of wisdom or purpose."

"They barely seek this world," he provided. "And they rarely seek out conscious dreamers in the Fade. They do not often survive exposure to the people they encounter. Wisdom and purpose are too easily twisted into pride and desire."

"What do you mean? Spirits change as the Fade does for those that are in it?"

"Yes. For me they are spirits while for others they are demons. The Fade reflects the minds of the living. If you expect the spirits you encounter to be demons, they will adapt."

"That is horrible," Numina said, terrified that the demons she had encountered in the Fade were wrongly so.

"Indeed" Solas agreed. "If you can clear your mind of corrupting influences and understand the nature of spirits, they can become fast friends, though."

"'Not in a sense that you would recognize?'" Numina asked, drawing from what he had said earlier.

"Spirits exist without form as we understand it. It is because of this that the Chantry declares that they are not truly people." Solas began to get a bit irritated. "Is Cassandra defined by her cheekbones and not her faith, though? Varric, by is chest hair and not his wit?

"You have a interesting way of looking at the world, Solas." Numina said smiling, hoping to draw away his irritation.

"I try...and that isn't exactly an answer," he said smirking at her.

"I look forward to helping you make new friends," she continued. "Ones that the Chantry might actually acknowledge."

"That should be...well," Solas sighed nervously.

"That wasn't quite an answer either," she said playfully. "I would not hold my breath, though. After all, I have been formally denounced by the Chantry." Solas laughed as Numina rose to her feet. "I have a few things to do before we leave for Val Royeaux. I will speak with you later, if you do not mind."

"Not at all," he said with a smile.

As Numina left, Solas could not stop himself from watching her go until she was out of sight. He enjoyed his time with her, more than he should have, a part of him supposed. It was a part that he was beginning to increasingly ignore though. His heart felt lighter while she was near, and she was so full of life that she brightened the area around her. Her curiosity is what Solas found himself enjoying more and more. With each question she asked, Numna exhibited wisdom greater than most. She did not allow her experiences and beliefs cloud her judgement or color the information she learned and shared with others. _If the rest of the Dalish were like her..._ he mused. But he quickly shook that thought from his mind, as he was finding himself do often after spending time in Numina. She brought out a light in him, an optimism that he had thought all but gone. Even as he cast it away, he hoped that Numina would spend more time with him and help him reclaim his light that had been lost to time.

~~.O.~~

Author's Note:

I want to thank everyone for their help in pointing out my silly mistakes and for their ideas and criticism. It really does make a difference.

Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoy.


	5. Chapter 5

Delay the Future

Numina was stalling fiercely. Shook would take on every mission, every single task that most would overlook on their path of becoming a hero of sorts. Yet Numina relished these little tasks, savouring them. They bought her time to figure what to do next. Who to side with. _How do they expect me to make a good decision? Both the Mages and Templars have done terrible things during this war, and both of them do deserve a second chance_. _I just don't understand why I can't get the two factions to cooperate with one another for the greater good._

The Inquisition's advisors were torn. Cullen fiercely supported the Templars, believing that The Order had been in a situation similar to the mages with lack of freedom and such. Cassandra was surprisingly inclined to seek the mages out because of their raw power alone. Leliana agreed with Cassandra. And Josephine had no real opinion on the matter, though she did mention that having the Templar order backing the Inquisition would do wonders for its reputation and credibility. They were of no use or help to Numina in deciding which group to approach.

Numina's new companion Vivienne was a bit more helpful. She was the First Enchanter of the Circle in Orlais. Her advice was to seek out the Templars because the rebel mages were a forest fire, and if anyone got too close, they would inevitably burn. Others of her group could not get over the fact that the Lord Seeker, who had taken over the order, had seemingly gone mad when he left Orlais after he struck one of the clerics, declared everyone as fools, and vowed that Orlais would no longer have the Templars aid. The Lord Seeker had gone mad with power and only added to the desperation of the situation.

Now there were two options: meet with Grand Enchanter Fiona in Redcliffe to discuss the mages helping the Inquisition as Fiona had all but implored Numina to do when they met in Orlais, or she could travel to Therinfall Redoubt with the noble houses the Inquisition had acquired as allies and all but force the Lord Seeker Lucius to give his support through sheer diplomacy. Neither of which sounded like particularly good plans, the invitation to Redcliffe being a trap or Lord Seeker Lucius simply killing them as intruders, but it was all the Inquisition could do.

But Numina, out of her stubbornness, had created a third option to delay the inevitable. She took care of every little task that she could, every slight that some of the refugees had in the Hinterlands. The advisors clearly saw what she was doing, but said nothing on the matter. She continued to increase the Inquisition's influence and power with each task she completed, bolstering their reputation.

It went on like this for roughly a month. Finally, Numina had run out of things to stall with, so when she returned to Haven, everyone waiting on her decision; she went back to the advisors to see if they had finally made up their mind on the issue.

She didn't hold her breath, and rightfully so. The Inquisition's advisors were still torn and could not make a decision on who to appeal to. They were severely unhelpful and had left the decision completely up to Numina. And she had no idea what the right course of action would be.

Speaking with the rest of her companions had offered no help. Varric was inclined towards the mages, though you had read in between the words he said. Sera hated both and offered no opinion. Vivienne despised the rebel mages. Cassandra was neutral. The Iron Bull was favoring the Templars because they had the most benefits on the battle field. Blackwall had said that mages were as equals in the Wardens and that perhaps they should be equal in all of Thedas as well. It was the most sound piece of advice that she had heard on the issue so far.

There was one other person she had yet to ask for an opinion from. Solas. She had been putting it off for a while, because she assumed that he would side with the mages for obvious reasons, but Numina realized that he was far too wise for that. He would pick a side for logical reasons, and it was for those reasons Numina sought him out.

The door to his quarters by the apothecary was shut. Her hand knocked lightly against the rough wooden door. "It is unlocked," his voice called from inside, muffled. Opening the door gently, Numina entered. The room was nearly bare aside from the simple furnishings of a bed and such. Herbs hung from the rafters, drying, giving off a pleasant smell.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Solas said with a small, subtle smile as he turned from the desk he was leaning over to greet her.

"I wished to speak with you," she answered, returning his smile with one of her own. "And perhaps ask you a question or two."

"I would be happy to answer," he motioned for her to sit on the bench in front of the fire, the flames warming up her back, as he sat in a chair of his own across from her.

Numina though for a moment, not quite sure where to begin. No doubt Solas knew exactly why she was here, but she didn't want a simple question on who to pick, she wanted a way to _decide_ who to pick. "Say you were caught in the middle of two options," she started. "Both of which have the same benefits and the same level of difficulty to get those benefits. How would you go about choosing?"

"I can see how that would be difficult decision to make," Solas agreed. "A few additional details might be necessary to make the decision, though."

"Both of your options are warring with one another, one is seen as more benevolent than the other, which is usually viewed with fear," she supplied, making it blatantly obvious what she was asking about.

"Hmm," Solas hummed thinking for a moment. He was pleased that Numina had sought him out for counsel on the matter at hand, but what impressed him greatly was that she wanted to remove the opinions of her own and the masses to see which was logically the better option. It was a very wise thing for her to do. He enjoyed seeing her wisdom and watching it have lasting effects on the things she did. "One could quickly make the assumption that the right thing to do is to go with the option that is seen as more benevolent," he began, "but some information about the one making the choice should be applied as well. If, for instance, she is in a position to make a change, perhaps she should do that. Change things. Go with the option that most people find fearful out of lack of understanding and change it so that there is understanding and less fear. If she belongs to a group that is an instrument of change, perhaps on the path of fixing one thing, she can fix things that have been wrong for centuries." Solas smiled at her. "Of course, that is my opinion." Numina nodded. "The world _is _changing, however. The hole in the sky proves that. Perhaps you should be the one to help it change for the better, if you can."

Numina looked into his eyes and smiled at him, her features bringing light into the room. The burden that was once etched into her eyes was gone and there was true beauty reflected there now. "Thank you, Solas," she breathed musically. "You have reminded me that not all change is bad, and you have helped me a great deal with your answer."

Solas felt genuinely happy knowing that he had been able to put her mind at ease. "I am happy to help," he said honestly. "Is there anything else I can do to aid you?"

"Yes," she said, rising to her feet, "you could prepare to travel to Redcliffe with me, if you would like."

"Of course," he said with a smile.

Numina left to inform Varric and Cassandra that they would be leaving for Redcliffe tomorrow morning. After that she was going to the advisors to inform them that she had made their decision for them since they could not agree, seemingly on anything.

Preparations were made. Supplies were packed and readied. And mounts were chosen from Master Dennet's magnificent horses. Everything was ready for the journey. They had delayed long enough.

~~.O.~~

"What the hell was that!?" Varric exclaimed once the rift had been sealed.

"A rift," Numina supplied, teasingly. "Think of it as a mini version of the Breach."

"Yes, I know what _those_ are," Varric grumbled. "But what was the other stuff? Everything seemed to pick up speed or come to a near standstill."

"Oh, that. I have no idea."

"Time seemed to speed up and slow down in certain areas," Cassandra added. "But it only affected us, not your arrows or Solas' magic as they passed through."

"There is no known magic that can manipulate time," Solas said. "Present or past. It was more likely something similar to magic used to hasten things."

"And what about the slowness?" Numina asked

"Do you not move slower when you are chilled by a mage's magic?" Solas responded. "It could be something similar."

"Whatever it was," Varric interrupted, "I hope that they all don't start doing that."

"Agreed," Numina said, walking towards the gate that was now open since the rift had been closed. Words of thanks came down from the ramparts as they passed underneath. Clearly they had not expected the rift, least of all someone to come and close it for them.

An Inquisition scout arrived from the path leading to Redcliffe village. He looked worried. "You should know that no one was expecting us here," he said. "We have set up a meeting in the tavern for negotiations."

"What do you mean?" Numina asked. The whole situation was getting weirder and weirder. "The Grand Enchanter invited us here personally."

Before the Inquisition scoute could answer, however, a mage walked towards them with a plastered smile on his face for politeness. "Members of the Inquisition, welcome to Redcliffe! We were not expecting you, to be honest," he said admittingly. "And as such, Magister Alexius apologizes that he will be late for the negotiations. Former Grand Enchanter Fiona, however, is there and you can speak with her if you wish."

"Former?" Cassandra whispered behind Numina, voicing her own question. The mage did not hear, however.

"Thank you," Numina said politely. The mage offered a nod of respect before leaving them.

Numina turned to the others, almost questioning what to do next. The only answer they gave her was a slight shrug from each. They had no idea where to go from here either. _Why can't anything ever be simple?_ she sighed before heading for the village.

Everything seemed off about this place. And it wasn't just the fact that there were more mages here than there were humans or elves. The whole atmosphere seemed...strange. Numina couldn't exactly say how, though. And that was just the atmosphere. What the people here spoke and whispered about was also completely off. The way they spoke about the Tevinter Magister arriving, it sounded as if he had been here for several months, not the weeks it took Numina to accept Grand Enchanter Fiona's invitation. There were also a lot of mixed signals coming from the mages. Few actually condoned the allegiance to Tevinter. Few actually wholeheartedly supported the rebellion. And most of the mages were only here because they had no where else to go since the Circles were disbanded.

There was one mage who did offer a few answers about the situation. Connor. The same Connor who, as a young boy, made a deal with a desire demon to save his father's life during the Civil War and the Fifth Blight. It was only because of the Hero of Fereldan's intervention and the help of the Feredan's Circle that Redcliffe and Connor were saved from the demon. Connor explained that out desperation and fear, Grand Enchanter Fiona had pledged the mage rebellion to Tevinter. She had done this a few days after the Conclave was destroyed, and Magister Alexius had thrown out Bann Teagan, Connor's Uncle.

"But that's impossible!" Numina exclaimed.

Connor looked confused. "How?"

"Grand Enchanter Fiona..." she stopped herself, realizing just how crazy she would sound if she continued with what she was saying, "would never lower herself or the mages to the likes of Tevinter," she stumbled.

"Fear and desperation can make you do things common sense screams against," he said. "And I should know."

Numina nodded. "I should go. Thank you for your time, Connor."

"Hopefully you can restore order here," he said, before turning to leave.

"Why would Grand Enchanter Fiona invite us here if she was already allied with this Magister Alexius?" Cassandra asked.

"I don't know. This whole place seems off," Numina said.

Varric hummed in agreement. "By the way, nice save. You actually managed to convince Connor that's what you meant."

"Thanks," she said flatly, before continuing towards the tavern. _Hopefully the Grand Enchanter will have some answers._

~~.O.~~

_"Come to the Chantry. You are in Danger."_ Numina read quietly to her companions as the entourage brought by the Magister left the tavern.

"A trap does always make for a good plot twist," Varric smirked. "Of course, if it _is _a trap, that is."

"It undoubtedly is," Cassandra added dryly.

"I don't see any other options available," Solas said, softly chastising. He hadn't said anything in a while. Numina found it a little unnerving. It meant he did not even have any idea as to what was going on. "And expecting it to be a trap does give a slight advantage."

"Good," Numina said with dry humor, heading for the door. "My day would be incomplete without an ambush."

The Chantry was on a hill that overlooked Redcliffe village. It looked rather ominous with its darkened windows and the cold stone exterior. As they made their way towards it, they found that the mages were a bit more willing to speak with them. Magister Alexius would not be coming to the village soon, so they did not need to worry about him overhearing their words. As suspected previously, many of them did not approve of the alliance with Tevinter. In fact, it sounded as though Grand Enchanter Fiona had made the decision without consulting the rest of the rebellion. Many commented on how odd it was. At the admission of their displeasure and fear, Numina would subtly suggest that they join the Inquisition. Those that weren't too fearful enthusiastically agreed. A few Tranquil even asked her if they might join. They were afraid that Magister Alexius would kill them since they were viewed as abominations now with their magic was cut off. Though maybe _afraid_ isn't the appropriate word. They could not feel afraid, however they did not wish to die.

It was still and silent outside of the Chantry. There was a sign on the door saying that it was closed down "due to troubles with the foundation that may endanger the faithful." There was a loud explosion from inside. The doors and windows shook and rattled. Dust fell from the roof and old stone walls, dislodged by the force.

Numina and Cassandra kicked open the doors and rushed in, Varric and Solas following close behind, everyone's weapons drawn and at the ready. The mark on her hand ached and shimmered green. _A rift in here!_ The green miasma poured from the rift, casting everything in a corrupted light. Beyond them was a man, he was fighting off several demons. He would strike them with his staff before finishing them off with his magic.

"Good! You're finally here," he said lightly and enthusiastically, despite the demons pouring from the rift. "Now be a good girl and close this, would you?" His voice had a bit of humor in it.

She released her arrow. His eyes largening in fear was payback enough for his teasing taunt. The arrow flew past him, the mage would later swear that he felt the feathers graze his cheek, and sank into the demon that had appeared behind this mysterious mage. Numina followed her first arrow with two more in rapid fire.

"Oh!" the mage exclaimed, as he saw Numina's intended target and watched it die. "I didn't see him coming."

More demons appeared and they all focused on attacking the creatures rather than figuring out what was going on. Pockets that distorted speed in certain areas appeared once more with each wave caused by the rift, just like the one they had encountered at the gates earlier.

The mage watched closely as Numina closed the rift, green channels of energy surging from the rift to the mark on her hand. She could feel it growing. With an explosion of emerald smoke, the rift was sealed.

"Fascinating," the mage said in wonder, approaching Numina. "How does that work, exactly?" Numina could only shrug. Despite her many attempts at guessing. None of her theories ever fit. The mage chuckled, amused. "You don't even know, do you? You just wiggle your fingers, and boom! Rift closes."

"Who are you?" Numina asked a bit defensively.

"Ah, getting ahead of myself again, I see." The mage offered Numina a small bow. "Dorian of Hous Pavis, most recently of Minrathous. How do you do?"

"Another Tevinter," Cassandra sneered. "Be cautious with this one."

"Suspicious friends you have here," Dorian laughed, brushing Cassandra's comment and the shaded dirty looks coming from the others. "Magister Alexius was once my mentor. so my assistance should be valuable- as I'm sure you can imagine."

"Are you a magister, then?" Varric asked. As Cassandra shot him a dirty look he added, "What? It's not the stupidest question to ask."

"Alright," Dorian sighed, "let's say this once: I am a mage from Tevinter, but not a member of the Magisterium. I know southerners use the terms interchangeably, but that only makes you sound like barbarians."

Cassandra let out a disgusted snort. _She is really wound up by all this, _Numina noted. "I was expecting Felix to be here, or was he not completely pretending to be faint?"

"Felix should be around shortly," he answered. "He'll meet us here once he's ditched his father, who no doubt is playing mother hen since Felix has had a lingering illness for some time now."

Numina nodded. "Why is it you are betraying your mentor-?"

"Former mentor," he interrupted. "Meaning he's not any longer, not for some time." Dorian almost sounded as though the idea that Alexius as his current mentor was repulsive. "Look, I get that you're suspicious, but you must know there's danger. That should be obvious even without the note."

"She throws herself at rifts that spew demons," Cassandra bit out coldly. "You're going to have to state something rather than the obvious to be convincing."

"Yes, yes," Dorian brushed her off. "I'm going to have to do better than that, I know. And I will." his gaze shifted from Cassandra back to Numina. "Let's start with Alexius claiming the allegiance of the mage rebels out from under you. As if by magic, yes? Which is exactly right. To reach Redcliffe before the Inquisition, Alexius distorted time itself."

Numina easily caught on. Even though it was crazy to think that magic could be used to alter time, it did explain all the other crazy things that had been happening in Redcliffe. "He arranged it so he could arrive here just after the Divine died?"

"You catch on quick."

"That is fascinating if true," Solas remarked, "and almost certainly dangerous."

"The rift you closed here," Dorian continued. "You saw how it twisted time around itself, sped somethings up and slowed others down? Soon there will be more like it, and they'll appear further and further away from Redcliffe."

"As if they weren't already a pain in the ass," Varric groaned.

"The magic Alexius is using is wildly unstable, and it's unraveling the world."

"How is it that you know so much about it?" Cassandra accused.

"Is she always like this?" Dorian asked.

"Consider yourself lucky," Numina joked. "She held her sword to my throat and asked me to tell her a truth I couldn't remember. This is her being nice, I think."

Dorian narrowed his eyes, but he appreciated the joke. "I know what I'm talking about. I helped develop this magic. When I was his apprentice, it was pure theory. Alexius could never get it to work." He shook his head. "What I don't understand is why he's doing it. Ripping time to shreds just to gain a few hundred lackeys?"

"He didn't do it for them," came a voice from the side of the Chantry. It was Felix.

"Took you long enough!" Dorian joked. "Is he getting suspicious?"

"No, but I shouldn't have played the illness card. I thought he'd be fussing over me all day." Felix turned to Numina. "My father's joined a cult," he explained. "Tevinter supremacists. They call themselves the Venatori. And I can tell you one thing: whatever he's done for them, he's done it to get to you."

Numina sighed loudly, shaking her head. "Just once. Just once could someone go after the sarcastic dwarf, the angry warrior, or the knowledgeable mage?"

Varric let out a throaty laugh. "You had glows green. If that doesn't paint you the main character of this tragedy, then I don't know what does."

"Maybe if I had vibrantly pink or orange hair?"

"That's so ridiculous, of course it's true," he chuckled.

"They are obsessed with you," Felix added. "But I don't know why. Perhaps because you survived the Temple of Sacred Ashes?"

"You can close the rifts," Doriad said as another possible answer. "Maybe there's a connection. Or they see you as a threat?"

"If the Venatori are behind the rifts or the Breach in the sky, they're worse than I thought. And for my father's sake, he must be stopped."

Dorian smiled, he had a trick up his sleeve it seemed. "You know you're his target. Expecting the trap is the first step in turning it to your advantage. I can't stay in Redcliffe. Alexius doesn't know I'm here, and I want to keep it that way. But whenever you want to spring the trap on Alexius, I want to be there. I'll be in touch." Dorian turned to leave out of the back door of the Chantry. Before he left though, he looked over his shoulder one last time. "Oh and Felix? Try not to get yourself killed." he added jokingly.

"There are worse things than dying, Dorian," Felix said, before he too left.

Only Numina and her companions remained in the Chantry. After a few seconds of silence Numina spoke. "Well that was…"

"Interesting," Solas finished for her.

"I do not like this," Cassandra said.

"Oh, we were all well aware, Seeker," Varric added dryly. "You could have made it much more obvious, though."

Cassandra rolled her eyes at him. "Whether or not you truly wish to pursue the mages," she continued, "we should return to Haven and explore our options."

"Magister Alexius also said he would send word to us when we could continue our _negotiations_, as well," Numina agreed.

As for making up her mind on whether or not she was going to pursue the aid of the mages, Numina already made her choice. Once she learned that the Magister had claimed Redcliffe and that the mages were pledged to them, she knew that she had no choice. Tevinter did not belong in Fereldan. It did not belong anywhere outside of the Imperium. They could not leave this foreign power unchecked and with full control of the mages. _And we will not._

~~.O.~~

The path to Redcliffe castle was well worn by hooves, wheels, and travelers. And it felt as though every inch of it was occupied with a Tevinter soldier. They stood on either side of the road. Hands ready on their weapons, metal masks ominous and violent. Numina was uneasy. If they were to attack now, Numina, even with the aid of Cassandra and Solas, would only be able to put up a fight for so long before she was overwhelmed. _I hope Dorian was able to get the Inquisition's soldiers in._ She silently offered the Creators a prayer. Numina had never really been one for praying often to the gods, yet as she continued to work for the Inquisition, she found herself doing it more often. _Perhaps I need to find a new line of work…_

The castle was dim and depressing. The dark blue light that flickered from the candles, clearly from magic, seemed to smother everything in shadows. In these shadows, Numina could hear the words of her advisors echoing mockingly.

"_It's an obvious trap," Josephine whispered._

"_We are certain he wants to kill you," Lelianna hissed._

"_If you go in there, you'll die," Cullen growled._

A man with two Venatori soldiers stood before them in the main hall. "Announce us," Numina growled when he remained there quietly.

"The magister's invitation was for Mistress Lavellan alone. The others must wait here."

Numina bristled. She couldn't believe how blatant Alexius was being with his instructions. _At least have some finesse when you're going to try and kill me via trap_. "Where I go, they go," she said in her most polite voice.

The man surveyed who Numina was going to take with her: a fierce looking warrior and mage. But he finally nodded his consent before leading the way to the throne room. All the while, the Tevinter soldiers would turn to watch before following. Their armor rustling and their metal greaves rapping against the ground.

As they were walking, Solas brushed against her arm lightly. "Do not let your guard down," he breathed lightly, his soft words slicing through the silence.

"I never do," Numina replied equally as quiet.

Magister Alexius was seated on Arl Teagan's throne. Felix was at his side, his equal. And Fiona was almost cowering off to the side. The soldiers that had been following Numina and her friends lined themselves along the carpet leading to the throne, joining those that were already there. Even if Felix and Fiona helped should there be a fight, they would not be able to win.

"My lord magister, the agents of the inquisition have arrived."

"My friend!" Alexius said graciously, rising to his feet. "It's so good to see you again. And your...associates, of course." Try as he might. The magister could not keep the displeasure from his voice. "I'm sure we can work out some arrangement that is equitable to all parties."

"Are we mages to have no voice in deciding our fate?" Fiona spoke up.

"Fiona, you would not have turned your followers over to my care if you did not trust me with their lives." Alexius sounded as though he were scolding a child.

Numina saw her chance to gain at least one ally against the magister. "If the grand enchanter wants to be part of these talks, then I welcome her as a guest of the Inquisition."

"Thank you," she said earnestly.

Alexius seemed rather displeased once more. He returned to the throne and sat down, almost as if to remind them that he had _power_ and _authority_ and they did not. "The Inquisition needs mages to close the Breach, and I have them. So, what shall you offer in exchange?"

Solas coughed slightly, and Numina quickly cast her eyes to the side. She saw Dorian and several soldiers sneaking into position out of the Magister's sight. _I'm going to have fun with this._ "Absolutely nothing," she said with a smile. "I plan on simply taking them and leaving."

"And how do you think you'll do that."

She let her smile drop and said politely, "Through you."

"She knows everything, Father," Felix said.

"Felix. What have you done?"

"He was concerned about you," Numina answered.

How Alexius managed to keep his rage contained so well was an impressive feat. He rose once more, angrily. "You walk into my stronghold with your stolen mark- a gift you don't even understand- and think you're in control?" He growled. "You're nothing but a mistake."

Numina felt a little bit of anger stir. "If you're so knowledgeable on the subject, then enlighten me: tell me what this mark on my hand is."

"It is a tool to bring Tevinter back from the brink," he hissed, "and a weapon to take control of this world."

"Father, listen to yourself! Do you know what you sound like?" Felix exclaimed.

"He sounds exactly like every villainous cliché everyone expects us to be." Dorian approached from behind one of the pillars that decorated the throne room. He walked cautiously, making his way to Numina's side.

"Dorian," Alexius said flatly. "I gave you a chance to be a part of this. You turned it down. The Elder One has power you would not believe. He will rise the Imperium from its own ashes."

"That's who you serve? The one who killed the Divine?" Numina asked, hoping the magister's pride would continue to give up bits of information.

"Soon he will become a god!" Alexius proclaimed. He was beginning to sound insane. "He will make the world bow to mags once more. We will rule from the Boeric Ocean to the Frozen Seas."

"You can't involve my people in this!" Fiona exclaimed.

"Alexius, this is exactly what you and I talked about _never_ wanting to happen," Dorian pleaded. "Why would you support this?" His voice muffled the sounds of arrows striking the Tevinter soldiers. Alexius had turned his back on Dorian. He didn't see his soldiers falling quietly to the ground.

"Stop it, Father!" Felix begged, and for a moment Numina thought that they had a chance of convincing Alexius. "Give up the Venatori. Let the southern mages fight the Breach, and let's go home."

"No! It's the only way, Felix. He can save you!"

"Save me?"

"There is a way," Alexius explained. "The Elder One promised. If I undo the mistake at the Temple."

"I'm going to die," Felix said bravely, his voice catching slightly. "You need to accept that."

Alexius shook his head. "Seize them, Venatori! The Elder One demand this elf's life!"

It was then that the Inquisition's soldiers killed the rest of the Venatori. The groans and cut off cries echoed in the throne room. Alexius looked shocked and taken aback. He still expected the upper hand.

"Your men are dead Alesius," Numina said sternly.

"You...are a mistake!" He hissed as though he were a snake. " You never should have existed!"

Alexius held out his hand, and an amulet began to levitate, strange green magic flickering like tiny lightning bolts coming off of it. "No!" Dorian cried, wielding his own magic as if to counter it. Alexius was thrown back slightly, but it did not stop what happened next.

A cloud of blue and green magic enveloped Numina and Dorian, choking them. "Numina!" she heard Solas cry as he reached out to her. Numina did the same, but their hands never met. Solas could not pull her from the magic Alexius had cast. Solas couldn't save her.

~~.O.~~

She was falling. Terror surged through her. _Am I dead?_ She was too afraid to know the answer. Then it hit her. Or she hit it. Water. She gasped at the cold and breathed in some of the water. Rising to her feet, she coughed fiercely. Beside her, Dorian was doing the same.

Numina did not have time to figure out what had happened or where they were. "Blood of the Elder one!" someone cried. She looked up and found two soldiers whose twisted helmets identified them as Venatori.

"Where'd they come from!?" the other shouted. The question apparently did not need an answer, though. They attacked without receiving one. And they were killed without receiving one.

Dazed, confused. Hurting from muscles strained. Head throbbing. Numina saw them attacking and reached for her magic as if by instinct. She engulfed them in a column of flame; the inferno reduced them to ash.

Numina was gasping for breath. Dorian was not faring any better than her, but something needed to be said. They needed to figure out what happened and what to do next. "Displacement? Interesting," he mused. "It's safe to say that this isn't what Alexius intended. The rift must have moved us...to what?" He rose to his feet.

"The last thing I remember, we were in the castle hall." Numina was having a rough time recovering.

"Let's see: if we're still in the castle it isn't simply where we are...it's when." The cheery man she had seen earlier in the Chantry and latter at Haven was now very grim. There was no light in his eyes. Numina imaged that she looked the same way. "Alexius used the amulet as a focus; it moved us through time."

"Through time?" Numina's voice cracked. "We have to get back Dorian."

"I know. Our best bet is that we find that amulet and reverse the spell. To do that, we must look around, see where that rift took us."

The two found themselves in a cell. They were in a part of the dungeon that was flooded. Upon exiting and traversing stairs upwards, Numina began to feel a strain. It wasn't physical, it was like this knot in her stomach that continued to get larger and larger.. Her breathing was shallowed. She was absolutely terrified. Not even the Breach had scared her when she faced it. Yet fear overwhelmed her and it only continued to grow as she and Dorian continued onwards and with their surroundings.

It smelled of death and rot. Even with the light of the torches, it was always dark. There were always shadows. It was inescapable. And that wasn't even the worst of it. Red Lyrium. It littered the walls and sprouted from the ground. It was taking this place over as if it were a weed in a garden. It ran rampant, corrupting all. Though it glowed as though you were shining a light through blood, it did not chase away the darkness that seeped everywhere.

They continued on, passing through different holding chambers and cells that were in no better shape than the rest of their surroundings. The whole place was dismal and depressing. It was broken down and battered. Whatever time had passed for this place, it had not been kind.

Numina had walked through a door that opened up to another set of cells. They were seemingly empty. No sounds were coming from inside. She turned to leaved, accidentally sending a loose piece of stone wall that had crumbled ricocheting across the ground. It's scraps and clangs echoed fiercely in the deathly still atmosphere.

"Is someone there? Reveal yourself!"

_I know that voice... It's twisted and warped, but I know it._ It had come from the last cell on the right. Numina ran to it, desperate to find out if it was in fact him.

"Wait!" Dorian called out to her, but she did not listen.

She stopped in front of the cell door. "Solas," she breathed, almost like a prayer.

"You...You're alive!" Solas said, disbelieving. "But how? We saw you die. I couldn't- we couldn't save you."

Had she not been a part of this mess, she would not believe that she was here either. But what shocked Numina even more was the state Solas was in. He was thin, ghastly so. A red fog hung about his head, and his irises were red as well. He was alive, though it looked as if he was barely so. And his voice, it echoed. That is why sounded warped to her. _What has happened? What have they done to him?_

Dorian had finally approached as Numina threw open Solas' cell door. "The spell Alexius cast displaced us in time. We just got here, so to speak."

"Can you reverse the process?" Solas asked, desperation creeping into his voice. "You could return and obviate the events of the last year. It may not be too late..."

"It's been a year?" Numina asked in a small voice. "What happened? You..." She couldn't finish her sentence.

"I am dying," he said bluntly. "Red lyrium is an infection that kills slowly, painfully... But you know nothing of this world. It is far worse than you could hope to understand." Numina took in a sharp breath. How could it get worse than what it already was. "Alexius served a master, The Elder One. He reigns now, unchallenged. His minions assassinated Empress Celen and used the chaos to invade the south. This Elder One commands an army of demons. After you stop Alexius, you must be prepared."

"We cannot hope to do this without you," Numina said, her eyes looking into his apologetically.

"If there is any hope. Any way to save them...my life is yours," Solas said earnestly, sorrowfully. "This world is an abomination. It must never come to pass."

"What happened to the others," Numina asked, almost too fearful to know.

"Cassandra is here. That much I know because we both nearly died trying to avenge you. Not that it did us much good. Alexius' reinforcements were overwhelming. He imprisoned us here along with Fiona." Solas paused. "As for the others... They died fighting alongside the Inquisition."

"All of them?" Numina's voice was shaking. Overwhelming sorrow and crippling guilt washed over her. "I can't-"

"Think about it," Solas finished for her firmly. "You must not dwell on it. Only focus on going back. We will all be alive then." Numina nodded. He was right. He was almost always right.

"Come on," Dorian said. "We should try to find Cassandra and Fiona.

Numina let Dorian lead the way. This place sickened her. It brought her nothing but despair. _This will come to pass if I fail. So much relies on me, and here I failed. What are the odds that I will succeed?_ It was a crippling thought. One that she kept to herself as she fought through this nightmare of a future.

Locating Cassandra had been easy. She had been loudly reciting the Chant of Light when they approached. And she was dying in the same way Solas was. It tore at her heart to see people that she considered to be friends in such a state. And it was all on her. It was and still could be all her fault that they were like this.

Solas had said that red lyrium was an infection. Nothing proved it quite so well and horribly like Fiona did though. It was growing _from her_. Red lyrium encased the lower have of her body, thick chunks sprouting from her. She was contorted in such a way that she had to lean forward against the lyrium that had taken hold of her. A cruel insult to a unimaginably cruel fate.

Numina was mortified. Words could not explain the horror and disgust that gripped her as she looked at Fiona. The knot that had been growing in her stomach wound tighter, and the flickering in her chest beat faster. Solas had been vastly understating things when he said this world was an abomination. It was worse. Far worse.

Though Fiona was in immeasurable pain, she was able to pass on a bit of information. Leliana, the Inquisition's spymaster, was here still alive. With gasped, croaking words she begged Numina and the others to find Leliana and to end this nightmare. And to end it first for her.

"Ma nuvenin," Numina said in a whisper, before slitting Fiona's throat, ending her suffering. The blood splashed against the angry red lyrium which glowed hungrily as the thick liquid covered it. It was as if the lyrium craved flesh and sinew and blood. As if it were an evil thing, alive and nourished by suffering.

It was repulsive. The castle stank of rotting flesh and death. It oozed from the cracks from the walls and burned against the lyrium growing, glowing from every corner it seemed. It was overwhelming. Numina found herself choking on it. The grotesque smell scorched her throat and burned a hole through her stomach. And she was weak. No person should have to endure such a place or such circumstances. She could not.

Numina braced herself against one of the crumbling walls as her body convulsed, retching and regurgitating everything in her stomach. Had it been anywhere else but this place she would have been embarrassed and disgusted with herself. Here, in the nightmare, this hateful, vengeful, disgusting place; it was an appropriate response. And none of her companions thought less of her for it.

Dorian had only been surprised she managed to regain her composure for so long. Tevinter had hardened him. This place was an atrocity on a grand scale, but small atrocities of a similar nature were commonplace back in his homeland. He believed Numina's issue was that she cared too much. The thoughts and ideas and scenarios she concocted about her surroundings, what happened, what people had to endure clouded and affected her as though she had been there. Dorian did not think ill of her because of it, her kindness and caring nature were endearing, but he new that in this circumstance it would cripple her, if she allowed it to. As it would Dorian if he did not actively push it back with sarcastic wit and humor he buried everything with.

Cassandra did not look. She did not stare. She knew it would only harm. The despair Numina was feeling was similar to the despair she had felt being locked in a tiny cell with walls that closed in as the voices draped in red grew louder. It was the same despair she felt as the Venatori soldiers goaded her with death tolls and taunts about how those she knew had died. If Cassandra were to give Numina any advice, it would be to let that ocean of despair drown her quickly so that it could turn to the fires of rage that would drive her forward as it did for Cassandra now. But she did not say anything. Numina needed to let it burn through her before any words could help.

And Solas was the one there to help her. He rested a hand lightly on her back. She was shaking. He wanted to bring light to the darkness that was drowning her, but knew that it was self inflicted. Blame. Numina was blaming herself in the same way that he had. But she could not know that it was his fault. It would not help their situation. Instead, all he could offer her was a comforting presence for the moment.

"I'm sorry," she coughed quietly.

"Don't be," he reassured her. "None of us blame you. For anything. You had no control over anything that happened here."

"But it still could happen," she argued softly. "If we fix things here, what is to stop this future coming to pass later with something else."

Numina turned to him, wiping her face roughly. He offered her a handkerchief, white satin that seemed to glow, with the small outline of a wolf's head in the corner. She had read of such things. Nobles kept them and gave them to those they were trying to woe, or so the romance stories stated. Numina claimed it graciously, taking care not to dirty it too much

"You are." Solas finally answered. "You are the one who will stop this from happening. All of this…" he continued motioning to the surroundings, "is because you were removed from the timeline. Had you been here, your wisdom, courage, and that small bit of stubbornness you have would not have allowed this to come to pass." There was a subtle smile pressing on his features. "You are the key to our salvation, and while it may be a great burden, seemingly unfair, there is no one else who could carry it a well or far as you could."

His words shook life in Numina again. This nightmare of a future had only come to pass because she had not been there to chase it away. "You are right," she admitted. "I am sorry." She straightened, strength returning to her. It still gnawed at her that her friends endured such torment, but she needed to shoulder that, carry it and make sure it didn't happen. Light returned to her in this dismal place, and she held on to it tightly. She could not save her friends from this fate if she fell to the despair that pressed against her. "Thank you," she added to Solas, returning his handkerchief.

"Keep it," he told her. "As a memento of remembrance. Let it remind you of what you are, and what you can do. That you are constantly changing things, the future included."

She nodded, tucking his token of memory into the vambrace she wore on her left arm. It was out of sight, protected by the leather, but she could still feel it pressed against her. She would not forget.

"Let's find Leliana, and end this," Numina said strongly, taking the lead with Dorian. The crushing weight of this place felt, but tempered with resolve. She was going to get out of this and keep it from happening. _There is the stubbornness Solas mentioned,_ Numina thought quietly, acknowledging the new resolve she forced upon herself. _Let it be a tool and not a crutch._

The higher they climbed up in Redcliffe castle, the worse things got. There were more bodies littering the passageways, rotting carrion that not even a starving scavenger would touch. That was, of course, if the ever growing amount of red lyrium did not ward them off first.

They had found the torture chambers. Twisted, grotesque metal protruding from lyrium. A table with an assortment of common tools manipulated for a darker purpose. Piles of bodies were a common sight in these rooms. None of the others could hide their disgust at this area of the castle.

"And I thought I had it bad," Cassandra said dryly. "Has Leliana truly been able to survive all this?"

"We will find out soon enough," Dorian answered lightly. He was trying to keep the humor and light in his voice. He was almost succeeding.

"How did the Herald know to interrupt the ritual at the Conclave?" came a sinister voice. It was coming from the door in front of them.

"You will get nothing from me!" It was Leliana's voice, muffled by the door. "Ah!" she cried out as she was struck by her torturer.

"You have done well to survive this long, but the Elder One will have his answers!"

They were almost there.

"I will die first!"

Numina kicked the door opened. The torturer spun around to face the intruder, metal mask hiding his surprise. He was standing in front of Leliana, who was hanging, chained from a metal rampart that hung from the ceiling.

"Or you will!" Leliana snarled as she wrapped her legs around his neck. The Venatori soldier thrashed about, but Leliana's grip was too strong. The metal pliers that he brandished fell to the floor as Leliana snapped his neck. His body crumpled, and Numina ran over, retrieving his keys and releasing Leliana from the shackles that held her.

"You're alive!" the spymaster breathed, slouching from the freedom her limbs now had. Numina could not believe that this was Leliana. Her voice was the same, but as for everything else… Her skin was a sickly grey that clung to her bones tightly, sucked in with malnourishment among other things. Her eyes were haunted and dead. Though Numina cursed herself for thinking it, Leliana looked like a ghoul. A body reanimated.

"Well that was impressive," Dorian said from behind Numina, still trying to keep his humor.

"Anger is stronger than any pain," Leliana growled. It was her new tone it seemed. One of perpetual anger and venom that growled and hissed. "Do you have weapons?" She asked Numina, who offered her a nod for an answer. "Good. The magister is probably in his chambers." Leliana strode past Numina to a corner of the torture cell, retrieving a bow and quiver from a chest.

"You aren't curious how we got here?" Dorian asked, rather disbelieving of Leliana's complete lack of caring about anything other than getting to Alexius.

"No."

He told her anyway. "Alexius sent us to the future. This. His victory, his Elder One- it was never meant to happen."

"I am so sorry for everything you suffered," Numina apologized, though she knew it would mean nothing to her. An apology can't fix the things you go through.

"We have to reverse his spell," Dorian continued. "If we can get back to our present time, we can prevent this future from ever happening."

"And mages wonder why people fear them," she sneered. "No one should have this power."

"It's dangerous and unpredictable," Dorian agreed, "but before the Breach nothing we did-"

"Enough!" Leliana spat. "This is all just pretend to you, some future you hope will never exist. I suffered," she hissed. "We suffered," she added motioning to Solas and Cassandra. "The whole world suffered. It was real!"

"And we can suffer it a little while longer and help them prevent it," Cassandra responded. Leliana gazed at her former friend and comrade before nodding her agreement.

"Let's end this," she hissed before leading the way to the Alexius' chambers.

Numina and Dorian could only get an idea of how bad the world was from the current surroundings. Images of demons, rifts, and lyrium running rampant flashed through their minds. They would picture places they had been, their homes, and add a splash of red glow, destroyed buildings and forests with demons running amok. It was only when the reached Redcliffe castle's courtyard that they could paint a more accurate picture of what their world had been turned into because of Magister Alexius and his Elder One.

"The Breach!" Numina cried out in alarm. "It's...everywhere!"

"The Veil is shattered. There is no boundary now between the world and the Fade," Solas explained flatly.

It was unbelievable. The sky was an angry vortex of green. Stones and chunks of land hovered in the air, creating a broken pathway to the sky. Green lightning flickered and the whole world shook with the Breach. Numina's hand hummed angrily, flashing a bright green. It did not bring her pain, but she felt a slight pull as if it wanted to get closer to the Breach, the sky.

Rifts were everywhere. They would clear one of them only to have another sprout with a bolt of lightning from the sky. Numina could no longer rely on her arrows as her only method of attacking. She switched to her daggers, dancing around demons and slicing them apart, casting magic hastily to keep a second enemy off of herself or her companions. It may have been a more effective way of fighting, given the increasing number of demons, but it did leave her in close contact with them.

After cutting down a lesser shade, Numina was violently thrown by an enemy she had not seen approaching. She slammed into the old fountain that had been a centerpiece in the courtyard, head cracking loudly against the stone. Black stars darted through her vision as she tried to shake off the dizziness. Warm blood trickled from where the skin had split on her forehead, above her right eye.

"Numina!" Cassandra shouted in warning. The demon was still on top of her, and the others were busy with monsters of their own.

Numina wiped the blood that had ran into her eye, irritating and a hindering her vision worse than the dizziness was. The demon towered above where she had fallen. She was finding it easier and easier to pull on her magic to fight, though not in ability. She found it easier to justify using it.

With an outstretched hand, lightning arced from her palm and burrowed its way through the demon. It wailed as flesh was incinerated, leaving a gaping hole in its torso. The screams echoed as Numina rose quickly rose to feet, recklessly so as her dizziness nearly sent her falling once more. She reached for the rift and pulled, draining and sealing it faster than she usually did.

Blood continued to rain from the deep gash on her forehead where it had made contact with the stone of the fountain. It burned angrily as the warm blood started to dry on her face and in her starlight gold hair. The right side of her face was streaked with small rivers of blood that trickled and caked to her skin. Solas tried to get Numina to allow him to clean the wound and stem the bleeding, but she refused.

"We must keep going," she said, leading the group back inside the castle. They found themselves in the room that lead to the throne. On their right and left, there were doors that lead to the chambers of those that lived here. The door to the throne room was sealed, and there was no doubt that Alexius had sealed himself inside.

After many bloody encounters with Venatori soldiers and mages, they finally had the last shard that could be used to remove the elaborate lock on the throne room door. Though they were worse for the ware. Cassandra had several deep gashes on her arms. Solas had a wound on his shoulder where he had deflected a sword from a killing blow with his staff. Dorian had a slash across his left cheek from a rogue's dagger. He had whined saying that it would make him less handsome in the long run. Leliana was kept to the back and didn't receive any wounds, but there was no doubt that she was exhausted, having suffered the worst treatment at the hands of the Venatori. And Numina, in addition to the wound on her forehead that had finally stopped bleeding, though she did not bother to wipe away the blood that dried, had a large burn on her right leg where a Venatori mage's flames had caught her off guard. Thankfully the heat had created and sealed the wound, making it bloodless.

Wounded, but not defeated, the entered the throne room, doors booming like thunder on the walls as they were thrown open. Numina drew her bow and fitted an arrow onto the string while walking towards Alexius. He had his back turned to them, facing the blue flames in the fireplace.

"I was worried I would have to search the whole castle for you, Alexius," Numina sneered. She drew her bow fully and stared him down.

"There's no longer anywhere to run," Alexius said, defeated. "I knew you would appear again. Not that it would be now. But I knew I hadn't destroyed you. My final failure."

"Was it worth it?" Dorian asked breathlessly. "Everything you did to the world? To yourself?"

"It doesn't matter now. All we can do is wait for the end."

"What do you mean?" Numina demanded, not lessening her grip or stance. "What's ending?"

Alexius chuckled cynically. "The irony that you should appear _now_ of all possibilities." He shook his head. "All that I fought for, all that I betrayed, and what have I wrought? Ruin and death. There is nothing else," he answered. "The Elder One comes: for me, for you, for us all."

Leliana appeared from the shadows and seized the man that had been crouched before the fire. He let out a cry and could now be recognized, his face lit by the eerie light. Leliana placed a dagger across his throat as she hauled him up. And Alexius recoiled away, reaching out a hand to show he was not a threat and that he would do anything.

"Felix!" he gasped.

"That's _Felix_!" Dorian said in disbelief. "Maker's breath, Alexius. What have you done!?" Dorian was all but yelling by the end of his question.

"He would have died, Dorian. I_ saved_ him!" Alexius pleaded. "Please, don't hurt my son. I'll do anything you ask."

Numina could not believe that Alexius still believed he had done right by his son. Anyone with eyes could see that he had failed. "You didn't save him, Alexius. No one should live like that."

"I want the world back!" Leliana growled before dragging her dagger across Felix's throat.

Alexius watched his son's body fall to the ground in horror. "No!" he wailed, tossing Leliana aside with a spell, his rage fueling him.

He turned to face Numina. "You will not survive this!" he spat. "A pity, you would have made for a unique slave."

It drew out Numina's anger. It burned and raged. She had never felt such an inferno inside of herself before. She never felt such rage. It was a fire that gave her strength, that had been fueled by the atrocities of this world. Alexius deserved no mercy or sympathy for what he had done to all the people who suffered and died in this future.

She lost control, letting her magic spill out from her, a flood of destruction and will that she directed at Alexius. Her arrows flew with lightning chasing them. She dodged with flames erupting from where she had been. Ice froze those that struck at her. Numina became a force of nature. A whirlwind of elemental energy chasing Alexius and the demons he pulled forth with his rifts in the veil and in time.

Solas and Dorian were shocked by her strength of will and her repertoire of spells she had kept hidden for so long. There were in awe of her force as one who wielded magic. Yet she was no mage. She fought like a rogue, small, calculated moves that dealt severe damage in as little movement as possible. Numina had the grace and skill of a rogue, and the strength of a warrior, sending her foes backwards with her daggers and arrows. And her magic, it served as an augmentation of her blows, elaborating them with deadly willpower that amplified the destruction.

Numina was angry. And blow after deadly blow only empowered her more. She danced, daggers spinning. She danced, arrows flying. She danced, magic swirling.

And then she saw it. An opening. Opening rifts, casting magic, taking on Numina and her companions had weakened him over time. Alexius' defenses were faltering, barriers flickering in and out of existence. It was on one such pulse that Numina rushed forward, her magic creating echos of where her form had been, as she propelled her steps with strength drawn from the Fade. She was there, catching Alexius on her daggers in a surge of faint blue light.

Alexius' gasp turned into a soft gurgle as his lungs were flooded with his own blood. Numina and her daggers were the only reason he was standing. As she slid them out of his body, he collapsed onto the ground. Dorian approached, sorrow lingering in his eyes for his former mentor.

"He wanted to die, didn't he? All those lies he told himself, the justifications… He lost Felix long ago and didn't even notice. Oh, Alexius..." he sighed before bending over and retrieving the amulet that had been used to send them to this future. "This is the same amulet we crafted in Minrathous. That's a relief. Give me an hour to work out the spell he used, and I should be able to reopen the rift."

"An hour!?" Leliana asked, alarmed. "That's impossible! You must go NOW!"

With her last word, the entire castle shook with an unearthly screech that rung through the air. Leliana and the others looked panic cowering slightly as loose stone fell from the walls and ceiling. The roar sounded out once more, thunderous against the walls.

"What was that!?" Numina shouted.

"The Elder One!" Solas answered. "You cannot stay here!" The desperation in his voice was almost tanable. He turned to Cassandra, and the two of them made a decision. Nodding their acknowledgement of the choice they made. "We'll hold the outer door," Solas told Leliana. "When they get past us, it will be your turn." They turned to leave, determination being the only thing keeping them from hesitating.

"Wait!" Numina cried. "There must be another way." Her voice cracked slightly. "If you go out there you'll die."

"We are already dead, lethallan." Solas said quietly. "The only way we live is if this day never comes." Cassandra reopened the throne doors and walked through. Solas followed her, but turned back once more. "Remember Numina," he added, touching his fingers to his heart. "Remember who you are and what you can do." Solas slammed the doors shut, sealing the throne room once more. Numina felt her heart stop, becoming a painful ache. Unconsciously, she clutched the area his token of memory was beneath her armor.

"Cast your spell," Leliana said, taking position in front of the doors. "You have as much time as I have arrows."

Dorian and Numina retreated to the back. Dorian began casting his spell. Almost cautiously at first, magic flickering tentatively as he worked out what Alexius had same blue-green glow that had brought them here began to emanate off of the amulet once more. Numina nocked an arrow, aiming for the door.

The sounds of battle came from the door, muffled but no less violent.

"Though darkness closes, I am shielded by flame."

There was a cry from Cassandra, cut off abruptly as a loud crash sounded against the walls. Solas roared angrily followed by a destructive explosion. Leliana had her bow drawn, standing ready.

The door burst open explosively. A demon, one of the taller ones covered in sickly green was dragging Solas' body. Upon entering the room, it threw him to the side as if he were nothing.

Numina let out a startled cry, moving forward as if to attack.

"No!" Dorian shouted, pulling her back to her senses. She stayed where she was, though every fiber in her being told her not to.

"Andraste guide me. Maker, take me to your side." Each word that Leliana said was punctuated with arrows as she downed demons and Venatori soldiers alike. She was taking down their numbers, but one of the Venatori's arrows reached her. Leliana cried out in pain, and Numina found herself moving forward, arrow ready to be released once more.

"You move, we all die!" Dorian shouted, grabbing arm and dragging her back.

Leliana kept fighting. Striking enemies with her bow and killing them with arrows she wielded. She kept fighting.

A rift began to open. Dorian's magic was working. Magic began to wisp around their ankles, pulling them to the rift. Numina looked back at Leliana once more. In time to see her eyes hopeful as a demon cut her down.

And then everything went white with blinding light.

In the distance, Numina could see the throne room as it had been before. She could see Solas and Cassandra, alive. She saw the Inquisition soldiers up in arms. And she could see Alexius. Her bow was still drawn, and as she and Dorian exited the rift, Numina trained the arrow on Alexius.

"Give me a reason. I _implore _you!" she growled menacingly. Her anger resurfacing. That future started with him. All that suffering started with him. What she had to endure started with him.

She was a fierce sight. Her armor was covered in gore from the enemies she had slaughtered to get back. The wound on her leg brought by flame was an angry mess. Blood was dried on the side of her face from her head wound and had gotten into her pure starlight hair, tainting it. Numina's eyes burned with rage and pain. Solas and Cassandra were taken aback by her. She had not been in such a state only moments earlier. And she had never been angry before, much less as furious as she was now.

They had arrived the exact moment after they had disappeared. "You'll have to do better than that." Dorian taunted, blood stained robes and wound on his cheek adding to the mystery of what had happened to them.

Alexius stared at them in shock, before finally sinking to his knees in defeat.

"Put aside all claims to Redcliffe and the mage rebellion, and I won't kill you again," Numina said, the anger slowly melting from her voice. Slowly.

"You won. There is no point in extending this charade."

_Charde!_ Numina fumed. _That's what you think all of that was? Some elaborate game you played._ Had she not had enough strength in will or control over herself, she might have killed him right there anyways. But she was better than that. She slowly released tension on her bowstring and placed the arrow back in her quiver.

"Felix…" Alexius said apologetically to his son.

Felix approached his father and kneeled before him. "It's going to be alright, Father."

"You'll die..."

"Everyone dies."

~~.O.~~

Authors Note:

Well, I finally finished this chapter. Took me long enough.

I apologize if it seems a bit choppy, I didn't want to linger in certain areas for too long lest it get boring and repetitive.

Anywho, feel free to let me know what you think. I enjoy feedback and am not afraid to receive pointers or criticism on my work.

Thank you for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

It All Falls Down

How readily the others were willing to believe what happened in Redcliffe with Alexius and _time magic_ surprised Numina. _Though I suppose a hole in the sky tends to make even the craziest things possible._ But that is all anyone could do, though. Believe. They didn't understand. Only Dorian could, and they had both agreed that dwelling on it wouldn't benefit either of them.

But Numina couldn't stop dwelling on it. It was a nightmare that she had lived through and that continued to plague her thoughts. Occasionally she would have to do a double take when she saw one of her friends, seeing red eyes or a red haze hanging about them. It felt like she was going crazy.

Numina wasn't sleeping. She would meditate, entering a tranquil state that would give her some rest. After coming back to Haven and reporting on what had happened Redcliffe, documenting all that she could remember in case there was an important detail that could help later, she made the mistake of falling asleep.

The Fade was a cruel place if you let it be, and her fear and anguish twisted it away from what she wanted. That night she saw them again. Her friends, dying as red lyrium slowly killed them, turning them into monsters. She would watch them getting cut down by demons as the Breach covered the world, shattering the Veil. And she would hear them, begging, asking why she hadn't been able to save them. Numina would hear Arleth begging for the pain to end. Children would be screaming in pain. Mothers and wives would be weeping over bodies of loved ones. Warriors would be doing whatever they could to save innocents, dying valiantly, believing that someone would rise up and end the horror. And all the while, the world was colored in green and red as it overtook everyone. Then, Numina would see the world barren, burned to nothingness by shadow and viridescence and crimson. As bodies lay decomposing on the ground and demons roamed supreme with a corrupted emerald sky above them, she would hear his voice.

It was not twisted or warped or echoed as it had been in Redcliffe. It was soft and harsh. "I said you could change things. Even the future. I was not wrong. You failed. You failed all of us."

Then she would see him. Solas. He would stand amongst the barren scenery, scorched by corruption and darkness. He would appear normal, a frown on his face, disappointment in his he would change. His irises would turn scarlet, a red fog lingering around his head. Disappointment would change to pain. His frown, a grimace as he suffered. A demon would appear. Tall and spindly, covered in green vines, the same one that had dragged Solas through the doors at Redcliffe.

Numina would try shouting or screaming a warning, but she could not form words or any other sound. She would try and reach for him, but she could not move.

The demon would smile at her, before its hand would rip through Solas' back through his chest. He would cough and choke on his blood before the demon let him fall to the ground, a pool darkened blood forming around him.

"No!" Numina yelled waking up from the nightmare. She had dozed off while reading a book, the fresh candle now reduced to a tiny stub. She threw the book across the room angrily, hating herself for falling asleep, for allowing the dream to take control of the Fade rather than controlling it herself.

She then let out a loud sigh. It wasn't something she could solve. The nightmares would come unbidden no matter what she tried, no matter how angry or tired she became. Numina resigned to her fate of restless nights.

Rising to her feet, Numina returned the book she had thrown to the shelf and grabbed a cloak draped across a chair and walked out of her room. The night air was chilly, gripping her breath and making it visible. It came in steady bursts with her breathing. Bundling herself in her cloak to keep out some of the cold, Numina walked out of Haven, making her way to the frozen lake.

There was nothing but beautiful silence. It froze the air like the chill that was dominion in Haven, her feet making the only sound as it crunched lightly when she put her weight on new areas of the snow. Puffs of chilled smoke followed her with each breath she took. The lake was before her, an expanse of ice that glistened in the moonlight, tiny particles of translucent crystals combining in snow and ice to form a shimmering mosaic.

And there she stood, shrouded in darkness. She faced the lake and the moon, the light outlining her slender form in a divine silhouette. Her long, flowing hair reflecting the moonlight as easily as the snow did, glowing dimly like the stars. She looked small and beautiful, fragile in a world of crumbling ice and windswept snow. That is what Solas saw and thought of her as he approached.

"Trouble sleeping?" he asked coming to stand beside her. She had been too lost in thought to have heard him coming, but she was not startled by his presence.

"Yes," Numina sighed. "There is… a lot on my mind."

"I'm not surprised. Though you should not worry. I have no doubt that you will succeed in closing the Breach tomorrow."

Numina was slightly disappointed that is what Solas thought was troubling her. He was often able to see through masks and barriers others put up to get to the heart of the issue. _Of course he would assume the looming task of closing the Breach is on my mind. He is no mind reader, and it is the pressing issue. _She plastered on a fake smile, "One can only hope."

"That is not why you are out here though." Solas added, a statement rather than a question.

"No…" she admitted. "Why are you out here, Solas? Shouldn't you be looking for memories?"

He allowed her the slight deviation of topic. "Truthfully, I have found almost all there is to see in the Fade of this area. And you woke me up."

Numina frowned. She was almost certain she had made little to no noise at all while walking through Haven. Unless… "My...dream," she mused. "It woke you."

Solas nodded. "It is not often that another person's dream can shake the Fade as violently as yours did."

"I apologize, Solas," Numina said earnestly. "I did not mean to wake you."

"It is no fault of yours," he replied, brushing off her apology. "I am curious as to what troubles you though."

She let out a deep exhale. "The future," she said.

"What you saw in Redcliffe."

"Yes." Numina paused for a moment before continuing. "What I saw, what I experienced...no words, written or spoken could accurately explain how horrible it was…" She stopped once more, regaining her composure. Simply thinking about sent her shivering with the memory of the fear she had. "I have never been so afraid in my life Solas. Not now when I face the Breach once more. Not when I faced the Breach before, nervous and confused as to what was going on… I have never felt such immense _fear_." She bowed her head, slightly ashamed of her weakness. "And that is not even taking into account _what_ was in that future," she whispered. "The death and suffering…"

"Ir abelas, lethallan. I did not know to think of how it had affected you," Solas apologized. "But you survived. You came back. And now you can change that future, prevent it from happening."

His words rang of something similar she had heard before. Without really thinking about it, she retrieved the handkerchief she had tucked in her left sleeve, having made it a habit to keep it on her. She pulled it out, cupping it lightly in her hand. The pure white cloth, like silk but softer, glowed faintly in the moonlight. Her thumb lightly traced the wolf's frame embroidered into the cloth. "'You are constantly changing things. Even the future,'" she echoed softly. "I know you are right, but… I watched you die…" her words caught in her throat. "I have come to care for you Solas. You are someone I consider a friend, having put up with my many questions." She tried to smile, to make light of what she had said, but failed at doing so. "You were suffering, resigned to your fate of dying slowly, painfully... And then I had to watch you die for me…" She had to stop once more for a moment, regain some composure. "I failed you Solas...you and the others."

"You didn't fail me," he said, his heart twisting with her words and anguish. "I am right here."

"Yes. But you were also there, suffering as the red lyrium slowly killed you. You were there when the demon-"

He reached out and grabbed her arm firmly, gently, turning her towards him and interrupting her before she could finish. "I am right here," he said softly.

Numina looked into his eyes. The grey storms were now gentle, silver clouds. He was tall for an elf, taller than those she met amongst the Dalish clans. She had to look up to meet his eyes. And though he was an apostate, he did not carry himself in a way that you would expect. He stood with a pride uncharacteristic with his background. He knew who he was, and he did not let the opinions of others bend him. It was one of the many things she admired about him.

She nodded. "You are here."

It was the closest he had ever been to her without tending to an injury of some sort, and it was not unwelcomed. Numina was not lying when she admitting to caring for him. His presence always brought her peace and she enjoyed their long conversations about some random topic. They were highlights, something to look forward to. _He_ was something she looked forward to.

"Yes," he said, letting his hand slide down her arm softly before falling back to his side. "And I can do more than watch recreations of memories. I can feel and enter the dreams of others as well, though I do not do so without permission." He gave her a soft hint of a smile. "If your nightmare plagues you again, I can help you stop it and keep it from haunting you once more. If you allow me to."

"You can do that?" Numina asked.

"Yes," he nodded. "All you have to do is call for me from your dream, and I will come."

She could not help but smile. That he was willing to help her in such a way… "Ma serannas, Solas," she said. "Ma melava halani." _You have helped me._ He gave her a small smile, amused that she had chosen to speak in elvish and secretly relishing that she had done so correctly. "Would you mind keeping me company?" She asked.

"Not at all," he hummed.

Silence overtook the frozen landscape once more. The two of them did not speak, they lost themselves to their own thoughts. Numina dwelling on Redcliffe once more, trying to come to terms with it; and Solas, on what Numina had told him.

_I have come to care for you Solas_. The way she had said it, small, a whisper, but no less musical than she usually sounded. Did he dare admit that he found himself caring for her as well? Did he dare mention that when he heard her screams and her anguish radiating in the Fade that it took all of his will not to rush in and save her from the nightmare? Did he tell that he saw the keepsake she had taken out for comfort and that he knew it was his?

_No. It will be kinder if I distance myself. _It was something he repeated often, though with each time he found less and less value in the words, instead placing that value in the words Numina said, listening to her soothing, melodic voice.

He glanced over at Numina, allowing himself a secreted smile. The moonlight sent her long hair shining faintly like the stars flickering in the night sky. Her fair skin adding to her radiance. In that moment he was able to forget _everything_. In that moment he was able to admit something to himself, if not yet to her. _I have come to care for you Numina._

~~.O.~~

Though Numina did not feel fear, that did not lessen the nervousness that sent her heart flickering in chaotic beats. Cassandra and Solas walked on either side of her as they marched towards the Temple of Sacred Ashes. _Or what's left of it._ Though she had friends by her side, it did not decrease the uneasiness that haunted her thoughts. _I will close the Breach_. She continued to tell herself over and over again.

The strongest of the mages followed behind them, keeping calculated distance. They were retracing the same path Numina, Cassandra, Solas, and Varric had taken once inside the ruins, walking down to the lower level where the rift connected to the breach lingered. It was partially sealed, just enough for it to remain vulnerable and dormant.

As Numina approached it, her mark began to spark to life, vibrant green light pouring from it. Solas and Cassandra remained by her side, the mages took position on the upper levels, brandishing their staves, ready to help. With a nod from Numina, Cassandra and Solas turned, walking backwards a few paces,taking charge of the mages.

Numina walked forward slowly, the mark on her hand growing angrier.

"Mages!" Cassandra addressed them.

"Focus past the Herald," Solas called, instructing them. "Let her will draw from you."

The rift finally responded to Numina and her mark, expanding with green, miasmic trendles that pushed her away. She fought her way forward, her mark flickering brighter, its unknown magic extending further across her arm. That is when she felt it: immense energy swarming around her as the mages channeled their will towards her. The mark on her hand drew from it, hungry for power. She reached for the rift, strength pouring into her as the mark began draining its energy. Channels connected her mark to the rift. What had once been a struggle been two opposing forces, a losing battle on her part, was now different. Instead of the rift pulling her strength from the mark, she felt strength flowing through her from the mages and the rift. Numina was going to succeed.

There was an explosive pulse from the rift, its dying throes, before a white light encased the area. Numina's connection to the rift was suddenly severed, a final wave of green exploded from the rift, knocking her and the others down.

Numina's hand burned with the raw energy she had gained from the rift and had absorbed from the mages. Her whole body felt tingly, and she did not trust herself to stand just yet. She kneeled on the ground, breathing heavily, trying to remain in control of the power that now surged within her.

Groans of discomfort came from the mages and soldiers that were in the ruins, and Cassandra and Solas rushed to see what had become of Numina, worried more for her than themselves. They found her kneeling, a circle of green flame surrounding here. She gracefully rose to her feet, turning to the others. Clenching her left hand closed, the mark stopped glowing and the flames died out.

"You did it!" Cassandra said, her words echoing loudly.

Cheering roared thunderously through the silenced were waved in the air, people were hugging eachother. Numina looked around, unbelieving that she had accomplished the impossible. She had sealed the Breach.

Her gaze found Solas, who offered her grin, bowing his head respectfully to her. Numina returned his bow with a smile, and let go of breath she had been holding this entire time. She then began to chuckle, part of it being the adrenaline, the other part being relief. _I did it! I sealed the Breach! It's over. It's finally over…_

~~.O.~~

Myrth was in the air. There was upbeat music, drinking, laughter, and dancing all at once. People would laugh, then they would drink, then they would dance. Numina could not help but smile, watching them celebrating: The Iron Bull and his Chargers were manning the casks, drinking more than they poured for others; Varric sat with Blackwall by the largest of the fires, Varric telling stories with elaborate embellishments; Dorian stood beside them, smirk plastered on his face; Vivienne was standing with Josephine, no doubt talking fashion or politics; Leliana was nowhere to be found, though that was normal for the spymaster; Cullen was standing with some of his soldiers, all of them laughing enthusiastically about something; Sera was skulking around the casks, trying to pull one over on people that were unsuspecting; and Solas stood a little ways away from the festivities, enjoying them, but at a distance; it was the same thing Numina was doing.

She looked to the sky. There were clouds, tinged with a faint, lingering green tinge to them, swirling where the Breach once was, a hole in the cloud cover, but the sky was sealed. Things were as they should be, and Numina had a faint hope that she would finally be able to relax, maybe even return to her clan once things were settled down, the excitement finally gone.

Cassandra approached Numina, "Solas confirmed that the heavens are scarred but calm. The Breach is sealed. There are reports of lingering rifts, and many questions still remain, but this was a victory." She stood beside, Numina but turned to her for a moment. "This was your victory, and word of your heroism has spread."

"You know how many people were involved, yourself included," Numina said, brushing off Cassandra's praise. "Luck put me at the center." _Mostly bad luck at that_.

"A strange kind of luck," Cassandra added, agreeing with Numina's internal monologue. "I'm not sure if we need more or less. But you're right. This was a victory of alliance. One of the few in recent memory."

Despite herself and her humility, Numina was smiling. It was a victory of alliance, but she was the one that had brought it all together. She allowed herself that small surge of pride.

But her smile was short lived. Bells began clamoring, silencing the merry crowd. Soldiers began running in panic and confusion. "Forces approaching," Cullen roared. "To arms!"

"What the…? We must get to the gates!" Cassandra exclaimed.

Her companions, her friends, looked to Numina. "Solas, Bull, with me. The rest of you, protect the others and get them to safety."

Solas and Iron Bull left to retrieve their weapons and armor as Cassandra and Numina approached the gates.

"Cullen?" Cassandra asked for an explanation.

"One watchguard reporting. It's a massive force, the bulk over the mountain."

Josephine and Leliana approached. "Under what banner?" the lady ambassador asked.

"None."

"None?"

Explosions began rattling the door as something was thrown violently against the gates. Light flickered and flashed from underneath the door. "I can't come in unless you open," came a young and distraught before really thinking about it, Numina rushed down the stairs, and with the help of an Inquisition soldier, she opened the gate for the mysterious voice.

Bodies of Venatori soldiers littered the ground, and one of the bigger soldiers wielding an axe began to walk towards the gates. But not for very long. Something struck from behind, killing him. As his body slid to the ground, Numina was able to see who it was. It was a young man in well-worn clothes and a large hat that hid his features. Despite the distraught that had been in his voice earlier, he looked relatively calm.

Numina with Cullen at her heels ran forward to asses who this young man was and what they could do to beat this army.

"I'm Cole," the young man said as they approached, distraught tone edging his words. "I came to warn you. To help. People are coming to hurt you. You probably already know…" The way he spoke was weird to Numina, almost childish.

"What is this?" Numina asked, not attempting to interpret Cole's words. "What's going on?"

"The Templars come to kill you," Cole said, eerily calm, a complete foil to the despair that had given his words a hard edge.

Cullen surged forward at that, sword in hand. "Templars!?" Cole shrank back, afraid he might be attacked, dropping into a defensive stance. "Is this the Order's response to our talks with the mages? Attacking blindly?" He did not believe it.

"The Red Templars went to the Elder One." Numina's heart dropped into darkness. Cole turned to her. "You know him? He knows you. You took his mages." He pointed to one of the hills in the distance. "There."

A man stood there, silver armor gleaming in the moonlight, red lyrium glowing on its own. But that is not who drew Numina's full attention. Beside him, from smoke, appeared a creature, much larger than any sentient being in Thedas. It was twisted corrupted. _Evil_.

"I know that man…" Cullen said. "But this Elder One…"

"He's very angry that you took his mages," Cole finished.

Numina nodded. "Cullen! Give me a plan! Anything!"

"Haven is no fortress," he explained. "If we are to withstand this monster, we must control the battle."

"The trebuchets."

Cullen nodded. "Get out there and hit that force. Use everything you've got."

Solas, Cassandra, and The Iron Bull came to her side, all brandishing their weapons, ready for war. Cole turned back to Numina. "What should I do?" his voice sounding innocent once more.

"You came to help. So, help," she said. "Aid the soldiers where you can, but focus helping those that can't fight."

"Yes," he nodded, then he was gone. No puff of smoke, no disappearing into the shadows, just gone. It was a bit startling, but Numina did not have time to be confused about what just happened. There was an army knocking at Haven's door, and she had to answer.

"Mages!" Cullen roared. "You- you have sanction to engage them! This is Samson. He will not make it easy." He faced his men. "Inquisition! With the Herald! For your lives! For all of us!" He rallied them. Thier shouts and cries roared across the frozen tundra.

That is when the first of the Red Templars began appearing, attacking. _Control the battle_, she reminded herself. That is why they focused on protecting the trebuchets. They stood fast, defending against wave after wave of monsters, for that is what had become of the Templars. They were twisted. Some remained relatively human, red lyrium sprouting from their armor in patches, but human in form. Others, the hunters, looked like abominations, though where their arms had been, crystalline corrupted lyrium had taken hold, and they used its sharp edges as a weapon. And then there were those that were abominations in every sense, red lyrium claws making them deadlier. _I thought I had seen all red lyrium could do in Redcliffe...I was wrong…_

Inquisition soldiers were finally able to get a proper foothold at the trebuchet Numina and her companions had been holding. As they fired one more time, they implored Numina to move to the other one, which was no longer firing. Running across the battlefield, they soon found out why. The Red Templars had overran the soldiers that had been holding it.

They attacked, Cassandra and Iron Bull slicing through the enemy with powerful strokes and sharp blades; Solas and Numina from afar, neither of them missing a mark with magic or arrows. It was bloody, but so far none of them had sustained any injuries that were beyond superficial.

Numina had Cassandra man the crank on the trebuchet, standing on the platform with her, covering her in case any of the Red Templars managed to slip past The Iron Bull or Solas. All of her arrows nearly spent, the trebuchet finally fired.

Unfortunately they had not seen if it was aiming towards the approaching army or not. The sights were off, and the projectile soared towards the mountain instead of the army. But it worked to their advantage. It struck the mountain, and a horde of charging snow raced down the slope, plowing over the bulk of the army. Cries and screams reached their ears faintly as they saw torches carried suddenly extinguished. They had taken control of the battle.

Cheers erupted from behind them from the soldiers. They had just struck a mighty blow against the enemy.

An earsplitting roar shattered their illusion of control, however. It was a roar that Numina recognized, that she hoped never to hear again. A dragon dived from the sky, it was corrupted, flesh and scales hanging off of it as though it was actively decaying. From its jaws, flames leapt. Cassandra and Numina were barely able to throw themselves off the trebuchet before it was engulfed in fire. Several seconds after the fire took hold, it exploding, knocking Numina and Cassandra to the ground.

The creature let out another roar as Solas helped Numina to her feet; and Bull, Cassandra. "Everyone, to the gates!" Numina yelled to the remaining soldiers that had survived the dragon's initial attack. "Solas, keep an eye on that _thing_! Do not lose sight of it!"

Soldier ran, panic and fear spurring them on faster than they thought they could go. Numina and her companions lingered behind them, though. They fought off red lyrium templars to help the Inquisition's retreat behind Haven's stone walls.

"It's coming back!" Solas shouted.

"Run!" Numina called. She and her companions bolted for the gates. Up ahead they could see the blacksmith trying to break into his shed. "Bull!" Without having to explain what she wanted him to do, The Iron Bull picked up speed and rammed into the door, shattering it into splinters. Numina and her companions stopped for him and the blacksmith, taking out a few enclosing Templars as he escaped.

Another roar from the dragon sliced through the air. Numina and the others shrank to the ground, making themselves small as the dragon flew above them, its wing beats shaking the air and ground below it. They had made it to the gates, but that did not mean much in the way of safety. The walls would not keep out a dragon, and it would only keep out the red templars for a short time, if they did at all.

"Move it, move it!" Cullen shouted as he ushered more people and soldiers in. Once her companions had made it through, Numina helped Cullen shut the gates. "We need everyone back to the Chantry! It's the only thing that might hold against...that beast!" He turned to Numina, a haunted expression on his face. "At this point...just make them work for it."

Numina nodded. She knew that there was little chance of them getting out of here alive. She looked to her companions. "Maintain some distance and look for any survivors that haven't made it to the Chantry."

The red lyrium somehow gave the Templars the ability to launch themselves over the walls. They didn't even need to try for the gate. Numina was running low on arrows, so she relied on Bull, Cassandra, and Solas to cover her while she helped the survivors get away from the Templars and head for the Chantry. So far, she had dropped and run into burning buildings to save Seggrit and Flissa. Up ahead she heard screams for help. Adan and Minaeve were both wounded, and fire was approaching explosive crates.

Numina wasn't sure why, but she called for help. "Cole! Help Adan!" And he appeared out of thin air and rushed to help. She didn't have time to be confused by what had just happened, instead she half helped, half dragged Minaeve away. The crates exploded, but they were all fine. Numina was able to hand Minaeve off to Blackwall, who had thankfully been nearby.

Finally she and her companions made their way to the Chantry for themselves, but before they could get to safety, Threnn called for their aid as a group of Templar hunters appeared from the treeline. There was no hesitation in them as they rushed to Threnn's side.

Numina spent the last of her arrows, not realizing it until a Red Templar was all but on top of her. She raised her bow to block his attack, but his strike carried through, shattering her weapon into splinters. The force of his attack sent her stumbling backwards a few steps, but she quickly recovered, grabbing her daggers and sinking them into his neck. And there they remained, she could not pull them out. Her daggers had become lodged in the red lyrium, and it would not give them back.

"That is the last of the survivors," Bull roared as Threnn ran to the Chantry ahead of them.

"Fenedhis!" Numina spat, abandoning her daggers and broken bow, lamenting their loss.

The Chantry doors were opened as they approached. Chancellor Roderick stood, bent over as he favored his left side, blood trickling through his fingers. Soldiers rushed through the doors ahead of them. "Move! Keep going! The Chantry is your shelter!" he shouted through bits of coughing.

Cassandra, Iron Bull, and Solas ran into the Chantry ahead of Numina as she let them. Once she crossed the threshold, the doors were sealed and Chancellor Roderick collapsed onto Cole. Cole seemed to have been expecting it though, catching him and holding him with a strength his body did not look capable of.

"He tried to stop a Templar," Cole explained as he helped the chancellor over to a nearby chair. "The blade went deep. He's going to die."

"What a charming boy," Roderick chuckled, coughing in the middle of his words.

Cullen approached. "Herald! Our position is not good. That dragon stole back any time you might have earned us." He sounded how Numina felt: frustrated and tired.

"I've seen an Archdemon," Cole interrupted. "I was in the Fade, but it looked like that."

"I don't care what it looks like!" Cullen snapped, stress and despair taking hold. "It has cut a path for that army. They'll kill everyone in Haven!"

"The Elder One doesn't care about the village. He only wants the Herald," Cole supplied.

"If it will save these people, then he can have me," Numina said determinedly. She didn't notice Solas moving to cut into the conversation, to keep her from following through with what she was saying. She didn't see The Iron Bull, place a hand on Solas' shoulder, holding him back with a nod of his head. _Now is not the time to be selfish._

Cole shook his head. "It won't. He wants to kill you. No one else matters, but he'll crush them, kill them anyway. I don't like him."

"You don't like-?" Cullen sighed, giving up on the matter. "Herald, there are no tactics to make this survivable. The only thing that slowed the Templars was the avalanche. We could turn the remaining trebuchets, cause one last slide."

Numina knew what that meant. Instead of despair and hopelessness, however, she felt oddly calm. _Am I ready to die?_ she asked herself, already knowing the answer. No one ever truly wanted to die, but Numina had already accepted her fate when the Templar army had arrived. "We're overrun. Hitting the enemy would mean burying ourselves."

"We're dying," Cullen admitted, "but we can decide how. Many don't get that choice."

She felt numb. Even when Chancellor Roderick remembered a passageway that lead out of the Chantry and into the mountain, Numina's thoughts were her own. They drifted back to her clan and her family. She saw their faces, smiling.

"...There is a mountain path. The people can escape."

"If that thing is here for me, I'll make him fight for it." A hard edge graced her words, fueled by her resolve. "Cullen, can you and your people get them out safely?"

"Yes, but when the mountain falls? What about you?" Numina met Cullen's eyes and he saw her determination...and her resignation. "Perhaps You will surprise it, find a way..." His sentence drifted, though. He did not believe it, and it was too much to hope for.

Numina turned to her comrades, they had all remained in the Chantry hall, waiting for her. "I know that this a lot I will be asking for," she started, "but will any of you stand with me?"

Without hesitation, "I will stand with you," Solas said, stepping forward with staff in hand.

"As will I," Blackwall said immediately after Solas, walking forward as well. "What kind of Warden would I be if I did not face this 'Archdemon' with the Herald of Andraste?"

"And I wouldn't be much of a frontline bodyguard if I did not follow you into this battle," Iron Bull joked grimly. "I stand with you."

She nodded her thanks to each of them before addressing the others. "The rest of you, help everyone get out safely." They all nodded respectively before leaving, helping the injured and weak. Numina turned back to Cullen. "I need to borrow your sword."

"It is yours," he said, unsheathing it from his hilt and flipping it end over end so that he had ahold of it by the blade, offering Numina the hilt. "The soldiers by the door will load the trebuchet. Keep the Elder One's attention until we're above the treeline."

It was a beautifully balanced sword. She grasped it with her right hand, and with her left, she pulled the amulet that always hung around her neck. It was a mirror shard with Elvish glyphs carved into it. Once it was removed, she felt a flood of mana and power rush through her.

"Like a candle it was snubbed, but now it rages. Power." Cole said softly as he passed her, aiding Chancellor Roderick.

Numina tossed the amulet to Cullen. "I will be back for that," she said.

"I will keep it safe for you." He turned to leave, but then paused. "If we are to have a chance- if _you_ are to have a chance- let that thing hear you."

Two soldiers were positions by the doors. Before she gave them the signal to open the door, she looked back at those who might be walking to their deaths with her. "When I tell you to run," she said sternly, "you run. You will not hesitate. You will not argue. And above all, you will not look back." Numina made a point to look each of them in the eyes with her hardened gaze. "Swear this to me by name."

"I swear, Numina."

"As do I, Numina."

There was a slight hesitation. "I swear...Numina."

That satisfied her. They may survive this. "Open the doors."

The door swung wide, revealing many templars just beyond. Numina raised her left hand and an inferno rushed through the door, smothering them in a sinister blanket of flames. She had cleared a path out of the Chantry, and she had plenty more magic where that came from.

"Let's make some noise!" Bull roared fiercely, charging through the doors, aiming for the nearest red templar. Blackwall and Numina followed behind him while Solas maintained a short distance, taking out ranged attackers and offering support.

It was a beautiful and deadly dance for Numina. Backhand, forehand, feint, lunge, slash, thrust, dodge. Repeat. And her magic flourished in these conditions, no longer smothered and hidden away. Her spells were no longer stifled by the amulet of concealment she had used to hide her gift of destruction for so long. When she danced out of the way of a blow, flames would erupt from where she had been and engulf her attacker. When she needed to block a strike and could not raise her sword quick enough, she would encase her arm in ice, deflecting the blow with her frozen armor. This was also handy when she would punch an attacker if the were too close quarters for her to get a proper swing from her sword. When she would kick, lightning would be infused with the blow, increasing the force and damage. Lightning would also strike the battlefield frequently, killing enemies instantaneously.

Numina fought as fiercely as the seasoned warriors by her side. And she was just as skilled as them as well. Though she was more dangerous than they were. All her attacks were infused with magic brought to life by her immeasurable strength of will. She rivaled the strongest mages in Thedas.

As she danced, sword in hand, blood spilling, and magic swirling, her skill was only outmatched by the grace she wielded it with. It was beautiful to watch, the other could see it, but it equally as terrifying. For her enemies.

Solas was the one to aim the remaining trebuchet for the mountain behind Haven. Numina and the warriors fought off red templar after red templar. They found that the more grotesque and disfigured the former templar was, the stronger and tougher to kill it was. This was proven to be true with a towering monster made almost entirely of red lyrium. It was brittle like all things were when frozen as Numina's magic also proved, allowing Blackwall and The Iron Bull to smash it to pieces.

The trebuchet was now aiming at its target and all there was left to do was fire it. They were waiting for Cullen's signal when the dragon's earthshaking roar sounded once more. It was doubling back, heading directly for Numina and her companions.

"Run! Move!" Numina all but screamed, praying that they would keep their word. And they did. Though Iron Bull had to shove Solas to get him to finally move.

Numina ran as well, but not until her companions had gotten a decent distance away, making herself the weakest link and the better target for the dragon. Flames exploded in front of her, cutting her off. The dragon circled the trebuchet once before landing in front of Numina, ignoring her friends, much to her relief.

The creature roared and growled, stalking forward towards her. It reared its head as if to attack when a loud, gravelly voice roared from behind. "Enough!" The dragon stopped, lowering its head as if to bow in obedience.

Numina turned sharply, looking for the owner of the voice. It was that thing that had been standing on the hill earlier, overlooking its army. It was more disfigured than it had looked before, red lyrium also outlining his disgusting and corrupted form. She tightened her grip on Cullen's sword. _Fen'Harel give me strength and courage,_ she prayed as she took up a defensive stance, though it would do her little good.

"Pretender. You toy with forces beyond your ken. No more."

"You'll get nothing from me!" Numina bellowed. "Least of all obedience like that which your pathetic lizard gives you!" A hiss came from behind her, but she did not turn to look at its source.

The thing laughed maliciously. "I wonder if your ancestors said the same thing before the Imperium enslaved them." It growled. "I will take whatever I desire because I am beyond you. Know me, know what you have pretended to be: Exalt the Elder One. The will that is Corypheus! You will kneel."

"Only to drive my sword through your chest when I make sure you are dead!" Numina snarled.

"You will resist. You will always resist. It matters not." Corypheus withdrew an orb, ancient in appearance. It began to glow red. "I am here for the Anchor. The process of removing it begins now."

Pain shot through Numina's body from the mark on her hand. She screamed at the pain and collapsed to the ground, but she refused to be on her knees and she refused to let go of her sword. With the green, red began to crowd around her mark, trying to pull it from her hand.

"It is your fault, 'Herald.' You interrupted a ritual years in the planning, and instead of dying, you stole its purpose." The pain increased as the pulling from the magic he was using doubled in strength. "I do not know how you survived ,but what marks you as 'touched,' what you flail at rifts, I crafted to assault the very heavens." Numina screamed again. The pain was unlike any she had felt before. And it was no longer contained to her hand, it was unbearable pain she felt throughout her entire body. "And you used the Anchor to undo my work! The gall!"

"What is this thing meant to do!?" she gasped.

"It is meant to bring certainty where there is none. For you, the certainty that I would always come for it." He strode forward angrily, grabbing Numina roughly by the arm that had the Anchor. He hauled her up, lifting her into the air so she was eye level; and while she still had her sword in her hand, she did not have the strength to strike at him with it. "I once breached the Fade in the name of another, to serve the Old Gods of the empire _in person_. I found only chaos and corruption. Dead whispers. For a thousand years I was confused. No more. I have gathered the will to return under no name but my own, to champion withered Tevinter and correct this blighted world. Beg that I succeed, for I have seen the throne of the gods, and it was empty!" With his last word spewed with venom, he threw Numina.

"Ah!" She smacked against the trebuchet, head cracking loudly. Numina nearly lost consciousness, but managed to stay awake. She rose to her feet, shaking from dizziness.

"The Anchor is permanent." He hissed. "You have spoiled it with your stumbling." Corypheus and his dragon began to approach. "So be it. I will begin again, find another way to give the world the nation- and _god_- it requires." Numina looked passed him, and her eyes saw what she had been waiting for: a small flicker, signal, of hope. "And you. I will not suffer even an unknowing rival. You must die."

Breathing heavily, Numina straightened herself out, looking her enemy in his eyes. She leveled her sword at him and smiled sadly, knowingly at him and then laughed. "You expect me to fight, but that's not why I kept you talking. Enjoy your victory! Here's your prize!" The last sentences she shouted as loudly as she could before kicking the release on the trebuchet.

The balance dropped and the rock flew through the air, heading for the mountain. Like fools, Corypheus and his dragon watched its trajectory. Numina on the other hand began sprinting. The crash of the rock against the side of the mountain was thunderous, and the roar of snow and debris falling was even louder.

In anger, the dragon roared before it whisked Corypheus away, safely avoiding the avalanche.

Numina had no such escape however. There was a drop before her and she leapt.

Pain resonated from the back of her head, snow whisked around her, and everything went black.

Far away, safely away from the avalanche, the rest of the Inquisition had stopped. Numina's voice had carried far enough for them to hear. _Enjoy your victory! Here's your prize!_ When the mountain came falling down on top of Haven there were some soft cheers. Most everyone remained silent, though, offering prayers. The avalanche did not only destroy the red templar army.

It had fallen down on everything.

~~.O.~~

_She could not see anything. It was darker than darkness. Nothing. She could not hear anything. It was more silent than silence. Nothing. She could not feel anything, not even the pressure of something beneath her body. Nothing. For the second time in the past month she wondered "Am I dead?" _

_Then there was a light. It was far away but it kept growing. It was moving closer to her. She heard soft breathing, like an animal panting. She felt warm fur pressed against her body. Numina was finally able to look and she saw a white wolf, the one from her dream months ago. The one with the silverite eyes._

_The wolf looked at her, eyes holding her gaze. It cocked it's head to one side. A voice then rang out through the air. A voice she did not recognize but somehow felt familiar._

"_Wake up!"_

Numina gasped as she woke up, coughing at the dryness of her throat. The cold biting her skin shocked the weariness out of her, bringing tingling pain on her limbs. She leaned forward, sitting up.

It was an old mining shaft, mostly taken over by ice. Debris from a time when it was once used were scattered across the ground. The nervousness she felt with her new surrounding drifted as the memory of what happened resurfaced.

_I can't believe I survived,_ she thought, smiling at her apparent incredible luck. That is when the pain in her leg began to surface.

She had not noticed it before, and now that her body had time to catch up with her being awake and aware, Numina became intimately aware of the wound she had received from her fall. A giant wooden splinter, part of the rubble around her, went through her leg. Had she not been in pain, she would have been thankful it hadn't hit any major arteries or muscles. However, all that was running through her mind were strings of curses as the pain continued to increase.

Numina removed the scarf that hung around her neck, thankful that the blacksmith had included it with the new armor he made for her. Draping it across her leg by the wound, she carefully took hold of the wood protruding from her leg. _On three…_ she told herself. _One…_ she pulled hard, crying out at the pain. Hastily she began to wind the scarf around her leg, whimpering when she had to tie it tightly.

Her breaths came out raggedly. She gave herself some time to recover, before attempting to stand on her feet. There would be some limping and a lot of pain, but she could walk. She retrieved Cullen's sword which was thankfully intact and began to make her way down the tunnel, hoping that it was not caved in or sealed with ice.

There was no way for her to tell how long she was walking. To her, it felt like hours, but that could have been because there was nothing else in that cave. The only sounds that she would hear would be her own, staggered footsteps as she continued on.

"Finally!" she breathed when she saw light ahead of her. There was a larger room in the mine shaft, and then the exit. Numina was about to relax when two demons appeared.

Despair.

Their shrill screams echoed throughout the mining shaft, bouncing of the walls. They wore the ice that froze the land, becoming the ice that gripped the soul and spirit when times were tough. Numina had her sword, but with her injuries and diminishing strength, she would not be able to fight them off.

The mark on her hand flared angrily. It had strength still lingering in it. Numina raised her hand, the mark glowing green, and she pulled on the energy stored in it, activating it. A rift appeared. It radiated with blinding, corrupted light. But instead of summoning more demons, bringing them across the veil, it was dragging the demons of despair back to the Fade. They screamed loudly, digging their icy claws into the ground, trying to hold themselves in this world; but the rift was too strong for them. Once both of the demons were gone, the rift sealed.

Numina looked at her hand. _Well, that's useful._ The mark on her hand, the Anchor as Corypheus had called, went back to being dormant, and Numina did not have time to ponder what had just happened. She had to keep moving, no matter how slow she went. Her only hope of surviving was to find the survivors of the Inquisition. Otherwise she would freeze to death.

A storm raged outside the mouth of the cave. It was a blizzard with added ferocity thanks to the loose snow that had come down from the mountain. Numina hesitated, already feeling as though she was frozen to her very center, but she had no choice. She stepped out into the tempest of ice, heading for the mountains she could only faintly make out in the swirling mass of white.

It would not have been so bad were it not for the wind. What was already fierce bit harder against her skin, burning it with the frigid heat. It would not have been so bad if Numina had been able to walk a normal pace, but the injury to her leg forced her to walk with a limp; meaning she would be out in the abrasive cold longer than she could hope to anticipate.

But she walked on.

The wind did not cease. It would pull her this way and that way, throwing her off balance, tumbling into the snow with gusts that battered her about, a small ship in a white, frothing sea.

But she walked on.

Her fingers, arms, face, legs, and feet burned from the cold once they had grown numb, causing her to shiver uncontrollably. She would try and heat up her fingers with her breath, but that ended up only making things worse as her body cried for warmth.

But she walked on.

When the wind finally died and the snow ended its barrage of freezing arrows, when the night sky finally lit the world around her, it revealed how far she still had to go. A vast stretch of smooth white landscape with not a footprint or imperfection stretched before her. It did not reveal the secret as to whether or not the Inquisition had gone this way.

But she walked on.

When weariness began to take hold, when she began to stumble over her own feet, when she was all but dragging her injured leg through the snow, when she felt like letting the wolves take her; she nearly dropped Cullen's sword, leaving behind unnecessary weight. Despair began to cling to her heart.

She finally stopped.

_I'm going to die out here,_ she realized. Numina decided that she was not ready to die. She had been earlier, but that was to save all the innocent people in Haven and the friends that she had made. Now, as she stumbled through the snow falling down more than she actually moved forward, she wanted to live. _One more hill. Make it over just one more hill._

Numina trudged forward, feet refusing to rise above the snow level. Her legs refused to move at times, and she would pitch forward, stumbling over her own momentum. Weariness seeped into her muscles and bones deeper than the cold did. Every inch of her felt heavy. It added to the difficulty of walking up an incline.

She was almost there. She could see the crest of the hill. A few more rough steps and she was there. Exhausted and battered, Numina could not move any more other than to fall to her knees.

Unconsciousness meant a break from the cold, and she welcomed the fall into darkness as she collapsed into the snow.

~~.O.~~

Solas was the first one to see her as she appeared above the hill. He had insisted on continuing the search for her even though the others had given up. He, Blackwall, and The Iron Bull refused to give up on her. They all owed her that much.

He watched Numina fall forward into the snow, collapsing limply. Instinctually, he cried out in elvish, torn between relief and worry, before shouting "There she is!" Solas had raced up the hill to her, the others close behind him.

She was freezing. As Solas' hand brushed against her fair skin, it bit with a chill in the way ice would. Numina needed warmth. Quickly, Solas wrapped his arms around her and lifted her out of the snow. In his arms, she felt frail, fragile, like the thinnest piece of glass.

He carried her back to the camp as quickly as the snow would allow him, doing his best not to jostle her too much. The Iron Bull blazed a trail through the snow and through the survivors in the camp as they gathered around to see the return of their hero and savior. Their Herald. Blackwall walked beside Solas, he carried the sword Numina had kept with her, Cullen's sword.

Relief swarmed through Solas as he felt Numina shift slighting in his grasp. She was alive. Hope returned to him. His heart lightened. It would take time for her to recover, but Solas vowed to stay by her side until she was well again.

Leaving her behind had been one of the more difficult things he had done. His heart had screamed against it, but he knew he could not break his word. Then when he was all but certain she had died for him, for them, it was more painful than a part of him thought it should be.

But Numina was alive. She had not fallen. And he would not let her go.

~~.O.~~

Author's Note:

Hooray! I got through this chapter faster than I expected. :)

I hope you are all enjoying the story so far. Please let me know if you have any suggestions or critiques, I appreciate both.

And thank you for reading. More will come soon, I promise.


	7. Chapter 7

Look to the Sky

_The sky burned. Emerald flames spread from the center of the tear in the heavens. The world shook as it ripped itself larger and larger. Lightning screamed down, corrupted with green and darkness. Shadows grew from nothing and demons ruled them all. A mighty Archdemon's roar slashed through the air, calling for the end of all days._

_Numina was in the courtyard. Red lyrium sprouting from the ground, winding its way up walls, jagged teeth amongst a broken skull. Walls were crumbling, unsound and ineffective, though there was no opposition to defend against any longer. The land was falling apart or looked as it had been thrown into the air, suspended by the magic the poured from the Fade, the Veil no longer holding it back._

_Liquid was drying on her hands, thick and sticky. She looked down at them. Dark blood smothering and warm was splashed across her hands, dripping from her fingertips. Gore covered the entire lower half of her arms. Panic. 'Whose blood is this?' her thoughts fluttered and frightened. The blood had not come from her. Turning around, her breath was driven from her. _

_They lay there. Torn to shreds as if some mad animal had gotten ahold of them. The wounds were fresh, blood still pooling around them from the slash and stab wounds that covered their bodies. Fear and pain frozen on their faces. Expressions held by time when they had finally died. All of them lay their, eyes glazed over, blind and unseeing. And they stared. Not at Numina, but at the sky, the whirlwind of chaos, the epitome of death. _

_Sera had a smile carved into her face. Varric's chest had been sliced open and then pulled apart. Blackwall's head had nearly been severed from his neck. Vivienne was no longer recognizable with how shredded her body was. The Iron Bull had been stabbed repeatedly, circular holes littering his body, the killing blow being in the center of his throat. Dorian's eyes had been stabbed out and his tongue lay a few feet away. Cassandra's arms had been torn off. And Solas, he lay in the middle of the carnage, his form outlined in blood, but you could not tell how he died._

_Horror choked Numina. She quickly looked away._

_A large shard of red lyrium was clutched in her right hand like a dagger...or a carving knife._

Numina's eyes snapped open, the terror in the dream shaking her awake, though not soon enough. Her body was about to make her sit upright in the same instance, but a strong arm held her down.

"You are safe and amongst friends, lethallan. Relax and remain still."

"Solas," she breathed, releasing the breath sucked in from her fear. He was seated beside her, cloak cast about his shoulders for warmth. His expression was kind and gentle, body relaxed. Numina looked into his eyes and saw relief.

A hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "I am pleased to see you yet live."

And Numina did smile. _"He means 'I kept that mark from killing you while you slept.'" _echoed from her memory. "Are you ever going to get tired of keeping me alive?" she asked playfully.

The hint became a subtle smirk. "If you insist on carrying on as you have been," he replied, matching Numina's playful manner, "then I suppose I will just have to get used to it."

"That's not exactly an answer," she teased.

"I suppose it is not," he hummed. "My answer would be, 'No,' then. I would not tire of it. And someone has to keep you alive since you do not attempt to at times." His last sentence sounded a bit like he was scolding her.

Numina's smile faded. Outside of the tent you could hear arguing. She looked to the entrance, and Solas guessed her question. "The destruction of Haven has changed everything. Tempers are short and tension is high. There is no plan for what comes next, and no one can agree on those that are proposed." He fixed her gaze with a warm smile. "But you needn't concern yourself. You are awake, something worth celebrating."

"I hardly think it's worth celebration." Numina said.

"Is it not?" Solas continued. "You are the Herald of Andraste and days earlier you had been willing to sacrifice your life for these people, giving them the chance to escape at the near certain cost at your life." He paused letting the view of the survivors settle in before continuing. "But you did not die. You survived the Elder One and his Archdemon, you survived the avalanche, and somehow you managed to make through a blizzard back to us. Your story is one that is akin to the legends that are recited of heros bigger than life."

"Well, when you put it like that…" Numina sighed.

"But I have already given you too much to think on," Solas said rising to his feet. "You need your rest, and I should inform the others that you have finally regained consciousness." He reached to the wooden crate that was beside Numina's cot and retrieved a small metal cup, heating its contents with a small spell. He then added softly, "This will give you a dreamless sleep."

"Thank you," she whispered, hating having to own up to her nightmares.

With a small bow, he exited the tent, leaving Numina to fall back asleep once more.

Solas carried a heart that was filled with a small amount of joy. Though the future looked bleak for the Inquisition and the faces around him were filled with sorrow and fear, he felt hope. Numina was awake and healing well. Soon she would be able to lead them out of the darkness that they had fallen into with the destruction of Haven.

And he would not have to carry the guilt of leaving her behind. He would not have to carry on thinking that she had died for him. Such thoughts, they tore deeper than he was willing to admit. Numina was important to the Inquisition and to the future of all of Thedas, yet selfishly, Solas only thought of her importance to him and the pain he would feel over her loss. Pain he should not be feeling, he would remind himself. And importance that should not exist. But those were thoughts he would quickly and readily forget.

It was midday, and the sun was shining brightly down and the blinding white snow. The advisors had stormed off angrily from one another as they had done every time a decision needed to be made. _The Inquisition needs a leader_, he observed. One person who had already been leading them crossed into his thoughts, as she ever increasingly did. _But they would never put a Dalish elf in a position with that much power,_ he reminded himself cynically. Old grudges and wounds heal slowly.

~~.O.~~

"_Shadows fall, and hope has fled. Steel your heart. The dawn will come. The night is long, and the path is dark. Look to the sky, for one day soon. The dawn will come."_

When Numina was a far enough distance away, she would find her humming the tune softly to herself, wind wisping it around her before silencing it. She did not place too much meaning in the words, those that were around her tied it too readily to her, but she did enjoy the melody. It was soft and hopeful. _Something we are running out of._

Colors were more vibrant now. Though the ground was covered in snow, the sun gave it a glow of purity. The mountains were hued with blue and grey, towering towards the sky. Far flung trees stood, full of life with emerald limbs. It was something that reminded Numina of her old life. Scouting and scouring new areas, alone but with purpose. The wind tickled her skin with a chill, but the sun kept her warm. For a moment, far away from others, climbing steadily up a moderate slope, she could forget her troubles.

Life poured into her. With each step she felt stronger. Confidence held her body with rigid elegance. Grace moved her forward with light steps that seemed to be part of a dance. The landscape around her was the nature, and she the beaty. Her life among the Dalish made her a part of the environment, gave her a connection most did not have. When most speak of natural, ethereal beauty, you expect to hear a description of a world lit in perfect light with shimmering detail. When you ask those who have seen Numina of ethereal beauty, they would speak of her and how she glided across the land, flowing like a river of wind.

Numina paused on the summit of the hill, shifting her weight to one side. The wound she received from her escape from the avalanche was mostly healed, but it would ache and throb after prolonged periods of walking. Starting to walk was also a bit difficult, especially since Numina refused to limp. Keeping up appearances was important, but what was more important was getting people to stop fretting over her.

"It something troubling you?" Solas asked as he reached her side.

"Yes," she teased, "how incredibly slow you are."

Solas chuckled, her levitivity something to enjoy. "How is your leg?"

Numina stretched it forward. The muscles were tense and sometimes there would bring pain, but… "It won't fall off anytime soon." He gave her a small smile and she returned it with one of her own. "How far do you think we have to go?"

Solas' smile faded a bit, "It is hard to tell. These mountains run for miles and have a tendency to look the same."

Numina nodded, readjusting the supplies she carried. "Shall we continue then?"

"Lead on," his smile returned.

They continued on for several miles, walking and climbing as the the terrain dictated. Numina would typically take the lead, Solas several paces behind her, though occasionally he would match her step for step, walking beside her on the lonely mountains. If she had not known Solas, it would have surprised her how easily he could keep up if he was inclined to. Most found it difficult to stay in stride with a Dalish in their element.

Few words were spoken between the two of them. Numina was enjoying the area, the sights and contours of the land as she walked. It was a nostalgic kind of happiness that had settled over her, reminding her of walking the forests or plains ahead of her clan. She did not wish to spoil the fantasy she carried by speaking of things that were real. Every now and then, though, she would look to Solas. He appeared to be lost in his own thoughts, so she did not worry too much about the silence as she might with others who needed friendly banter to keep time moving for them.

The sun was beginning to set. The clouds were alit with orange, brazen fire, sky blending with the blue of the sky to form a soft purple. Mountains were cast in shadows and outlined by the soft and harsh colors of the sky. Such radiance was hard to describe. It could only be committed to memory: Golden flame outlined the gentle and rough edges of the mountains cast about in night's shadow. Clouds floated in thin wisps, fires burning stronger as the sun sank lower and lower in the sky. Where flames did not rage, a deep purple lingered, trying faintly to smother the infernos brought by the sunset. The waves of lavender that washed across flickering fire faded into a deep blue, an ocean that was awaiting its many ships that shine dimly against the dark night. Awaiting an island of silver light that would hang in the air.

There was a small alcove sheltered from the winds and snow. Numina and Solas made camp there, a small fire for some warmth, their bedrolls and small tents only able to do so much against the cold. A light meal was prepared, a ration of a ration.

As Numina rested her head, she would not admit the fear she felt at the notion of falling asleep. Not even to herself. Before closing her eyes, Numina already knew what would be waiting for her in the Fade. What hope she gained from her travels, from forgetting her nightmares, was quickly abandoned as despair grew in her heart.

_Each time was always different. What happened would always be different. But Numina would always see them. She would see the people she had failed to save. _

_Scarlet blood flowed down angry glowing red that grew from the ramparts. They had been set on top of the sharp edges of lyrium, impaled. Her friends had died slowly, their own weight carrying them downwards into unending agony and inevitable death._

_Numina could not turn away, she could not run away. The nightmare would only allow her to follow a certain path. There was no such thing as backwards, left, or right. There was only forward. A set course created just for her._

_It would always be the same. The sky would always be boiling with revolting green. The land would be burned and scarred by corruption and destruction on an unimaginable scale. Shadows would grow, clustering together and creating a darkness that would follow you. Blood and corpses would stain the walls. Red lyrium would grow like talons reaching from the earth to drag you down. There would be no wind. The air would sizzle and burn, enhancing the scent of death, blood, rotting and burning flesh. _

_Numina was in the courtyard of Redcliffe's castle, the setting becoming all too familiar. She was being dragged forward, her feet scuffing against the ground. Wherever the dream was taking her, she did not want to go, and when she finally stopped, dread filled her._

_They appeared again. Moments ago they had been on the ramparts, now they stood before her. Red lyrium protruded from their skin like broken bones, bloodied and jagged. They were her clan members, Arleth, her friends, faceless soldiers, children. They were the people she had failed to save. And they began to whisper._

"_Why didn't you save us?" they wailed in a hiss._

"_You didn't try hard enough," they accused._

"_Did you ever care?"_

"_We waited for you."_

"_You were supposed to end this."_

"_We thought you were a hero."_

"_Why did you abandon us?"_

"_You didn't come for us."_

"_We prayed to you and you didn't answer."_

"_We shouldn't have followed you."_

"_You lied to us!"_

"_You FAILED us!"_

_The dream allowed Numina to fall to her knees, the weight of her supposed failure crushing her. She placed her hand over her ears, trying to shut the voices of those she cared about and those who she didn't know out. But their words were not spoken. They were loud and sliced through the air. Numina heard them no matter how hard she tried to press them out of her ears._

_Tears began to trail down her cheeks. She knew this wasn't real. She knew it was a dream. But the fear she felt, the despair, the guilt, the sense of failure; that was real. It was tangible. It burned her cheeks and poured from her eyes._

_Numina breathed heavily. Darkness was swirling around her, a blanket of cold that was suffocating her. Panic began to settle in. She had to get out of this nightmare. The voices were getting louder, drowning out her thoughts._

"_Solas!" she screamed, praying that he would hear her._

_And he did. Fire rained down on the phantoms of failure that stood towering above Numina. The projection of them fading out as though they had never been there. Solas stood in front of her, defending her. It was then that Numina saw what had been torturing her in her sleep, what Solas was now protecting her against._

_Failure._

_The demon looked female in appearance, much like a desire demon attempts. Its skin was sickly pale, tinged with pale blue-green coloration. It was wearing a white tattered gown that was drenched. Its nails were black and moldy. Eyes were sunken in and hollow. Black hair, matted in tangles with rotting vines and leaves tied in it fell past its shoulders, obscuring most of its face, soaked with water that was dripping from the ends. It looked like the corpse of a drowned woman._

_Solas did not give it time to speak. Lightning flashed, scorching a trail through the air. It met the demon with an explosion of light, a crack of fury, and a warped, twisted wail. The demon was no more._

_Numina could finally breath. A pressure that had been suffocating her was lifted off of her chest. She still shivered from the fear she had suffered at the hands of that demon. Solas kneeled before her, concern etched on his face. He offered her a hand. Wordlessly, she took it and he helped her to her feet._

"_Are you alright?" he asked, voice echoing across the silenced and stilled dreamscape._

_Until then, Numina had not looked him in the eye. She did not trust herself. She still didn't, but she met his gaze. Words would not form. Tears threatened to fall. Numina could only shake her head, but her emotions took control of her anyway. She fell into him, leaning into his shoulder. Relief that it was over had overflowed the already pent up emotions that the nightmare, that the demon, had given her. Stress that she had tactfully hidden became unmanageable. Numina had no longer been able to hold it all in._

_At first, Solas was taken by surprise, unsure of what to do. But when he felt her sobbing softly against him, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling Numina in closer. He held her in silence as she cried, comforting her with his warm embrace, softly stroking her back with his hand. She responded to his touch, pulling herself closer into his arms, seeking shelter from her storming emotions._

_After a time, Numina's breathing became less erratic and evened out. The tightness she held Solas with lessened and she relaxed in his arms. Presently, she began to pull away softly, creating a small space between them. Numina wiped her eyes roughly, the red fading quickly from her pale skin._

"_I'm sorry," she apologized. "You must think I am acting like a child."_

_Solas looked at her, sorrow tugging at his expression. She tried so hard to rely on only herself. It reminded him of someone. _'He who hunts alone,'_ and he knew what pain and stress such a life brought. He shook his head. "No. I only feel regret that I did not think to help you sooner."_

_Numina laughed nervously, shaking the remaining tears from her eyes. "You are too kind, Solas." She smiled, eyes still glistening, and reached out for his hand. Once she found it, her warm soft fingers gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "Thank you." _

_Solas' body was in near shock from the contact. Moments ago he had been holding Numina, something he only wished quietly to himself. Now her hand was in his. He felt the the tiny movements of her fingers as she was going to pull her hand away, but something in him, the part that was growing more bold, held her hand fast, with a tender yet firm grip. The flush of her cheeks did not go unnoticed. "Are you alright?" he asked her again, his words compassionate and concerned._

"_I will be," she said. "But...what was that? I have never seen a spirit or demon like that before."_

_His face became more serious. "It was once a non-aggressive spirit. I believe that the Breach must have corrupted its true nature. What once was Virtue became Failure." Numina flinched at that word. Solas stroked the top of her hand softly. "You have a remarkably strong will, having withstood against it for so long." He then added reassuringly, "It will not haunt you any longer."_

_She nodded, having not fully come to accept that the nightmares brought by the demon were finally at an end. Lightly pulling her hand from his, regretting doing so but knowing she should not push anything, Numina turned to look at the dreamscape. Though the world of this dream had frozen in time, it remained the same: flaming green sky, infectious red lyrium, crumbling into nothingness. "This is what the future more horrible than words could depict looks like," she said sorrowfully._

_It was like he was truly seeing this place for the first time. Solas took in his surroundings with mixed feelings of disbelief, disgust, and sorrow. What shocked him even more was the level of detail this place held. The fact that the landscape had not vanished with the demon's demise proved that it had been formed from Numina's memory, but the fact that it was incredibly accurate with the 'real' place showed something else: Numina was the one that had created the nightmare. The demon merely added to it, fed off of it… It was something he was going to have to help her with._

_Solas grabbed Numina and turned her back towards him. "There is no reason to be here," he told her, voice soft and lyrical. "There is no reason to hold on to the memory."_

_She seemed to hesitate, thinking on his words. This place served as a reminder, a warning of what would happened if she didn't succeed. _'And that is what drew the demon,'_ she realized. Numina closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. Thoughts of Solas as she met him in the future came to the surface. Thoughts of the small gift he had given her emerged. _'I do not need this place to remember what is at stake,' _she told herself,_ 'as long as I have him by my side.'

_The dreamscape began to drift and dissolve as Numina let go of the memory she had held on to for long enough. The green and reed vanished into the grey that held on to the Fade's landscape. The walls and lyrium disappeared, growing faint before they were gone._

_Numina opened her eyes, meadows covered in faint blue ice finding Solas' soft silver gaze. "Control can be a person's greatest strength," he told her, "but it can also be the greatest weapon turned against them." The bangs of her starlight hair had fallen over her eye more so than they usually did. It kept the Vallaslin hidden, but it also hid a small portion of her beauty. Solas longed to brush it behind her ears, to see her face completely; but he could not, the ever weakening voice against his fondness of Numina winning one battle of a losing war. "You have reclaimed this dream, but now we must continue our journey."_

"_Yes," Numina nodded in agreement. "It is time to wake up," she hummed musically._

The dream ended, and the dreamers returned from the Fade. They did not say anything to one another as they packed up their supplies and headed north once more. They did not need to. There was a quiet understanding that passed between them that they did not need to speak on what happened in their dreams.

The sun had just rose, soft light illuminating the sky, though the mountains kept them in chilling shade. Their cloaks were wrapped tightly around them as they continued forwards, hoping that today they would be able to send word that they had found what they were searching for: a place for the Inquisition to rebuild and grow.

There was no wind today, nothing to chase away the melody that Numina hummed softly to herself. _The shepherd's lost, and his home is far. Keep to the stars. The dawn will come…_ She had forgotten that Solas was near and listening to her. _Bare your blade-_

"And raise it high. Stand your ground…"

"For one day soon...The dawn will come."

Solas' voice had not changed pitch, soft and peaceful, but it had carried the tune beautifully. And though Numina had finished the song, her cheeks burned with embarrassment. She ducked her head, trying to hide her blush. So focused on what Solas thought of her, she did not pay attention to the terrain. There was a dip in the ground, and her injured leg came down hard on it. Jarring pain shot through her leg. Numina gasped as her leg buckled underneath her.

But Solas was able to catch her, holding her up by her waist and arm. He held on to her tightly, allowing her to place some of her weight on him.

"Ma serannas," Numina breathed.

"Can you walk?"

Tentatively she placed some weight on her injured leg. Intense pain rushed back, seizing up the muscles. "No," she shook her head.

Still allowing Numina to balance herself on him, Solas tossed his pack to the side, before helping Numina with hers. "We could use a break," he said, as if trying to make her feel better. Taking her by both hands, he helped Numina lower herself so that she could sit down and rest her leg. "I am sorry for distracting you."

Numina blushed. "I am the one who got carried away with the song."

Solas smiled, his gaze gentle and kind as he looked at her. "I may have helped with that a little."

They sat in silence, staring out across the frozen scenery. Solas was watching the windswept snow, eyes betraying that he was deep in thought. Numina was leaning over, softly massaging her leg with careful strokes.

It was Solas who spoke first. "Your name…" he mused, "what does it mean?"

A question that she was used to answering. It was usually the first of many things regarding her origin that were asked. "It comes from the word 'numin,' the closest translation being 'tears' or 'cry.'"

"I am aware of the translation," he said, a small smile allowing her to know that he was not criticizing her. "I asked about your name's meaning."

Numina hesitated. Most were content with that simple translation. Very few asked her what it personally meant, and fewer still actually received an explanation. "It is not a very pleasant story, as you can imagine."

"If it does not bring you too much grief, I would like to hear it."

"Ma nuvenin," she relented. Pausing for a moment, she gathered her thoughts. "The day of my birth was shrouded in sorrow. My father had been out hunting earlier in the morning when his hunting party ran into the bandits that had already killed two of our clan members along an old abandoned road. They were outnumbered and at a disadvantage with weapons, carrying only bows. The bandits would not let them leave with their lives. They would either kill the elves and take their belongings, or they would sell them as slaves." Numina allowed herself a faint smile. "My father was not one to submit, however, and he created a third option that would not result in all of them either dying or becoming slaves. My father stayed behind, firing arrow after arrow, covering his friends as they escaped." She paused for a moment. "The bandits were never seen again. They never did find his body.

"My mother had just gone into labor when they returned with the grievous news… And as I have been told, it was an extraordinarily difficult labor, long and painful. Her sorrow did not help the process. Her life slipped away before she could even hold me… They have told me that she was beautiful, full of life and kindness. That sometimes she would care too much, but that was what was so lovely about her."

"Ir abelas…" Solas said softly.

She shook her head. "Those that had aided my mother did not want to touch me. My father dead in the morning; my mother, the evening. Both on the day I was born. They thought I was cursed, that Fen'Harel had marked me, that I would bring calamity to the clan." Numina's voice was filled cynical sarcasm, and she saw Solas shake his head, saw the disgusted turn of his mouth. "They were superstitious and fools. I do not blame them for it." He looked back to her, nodding an apology. She continued. "My mother's sister, the Keeper, simply scooped me up into her arms, ignoring their words." Her voice became soft and thoughtful. "As she has said to me, I reached out to her as she held me, my tiny hand brushing against her cheek where her tears where falling. I did not cry or fuss. I was quiet and still. Peaceful despite all that had happened."

Numina met Solas' eyes. "On a day that should have been joyous and happy, there was sorrow, crying, and tears. On a day that should have been one of mourning, there was happiness… I am the sorrow that weeps over loss and the happiness that cries out of joy. I am Numina, the daughter of those tears."

~~.O.~~

The day was growing old. The sun slipping down the side of the sky, no longer able to hold itself high. It lit the world in a faint orange glow. The terrain was becoming more steep and mountainous, making travelling slow work, yet Numina and Solas had made decent progress despite the small break they took earlier.

Their earlier conversation had not left Solas, his thoughts constantly turning back to it. _Numina, the daughter of tears, _he reflected. It was a name and title that sang a similar song to those from ancient times when the Elvhen had their empire and the Pantheon carried soul-filled titles such as that one. And the more that he thought on it, the more Solas found Numina's title to be true. With comforting words, selfless actions, a tender heart, or a merciful blade, she would end sorrow, removing tears from weary eyes. With melodies of sentences, gentle smiles, warm conversations, and honest kindness, she would bring happiness and joy to those around her. Numina sought to end the sorrow of the world, doing all she could. _She is the daughter of tears, trying to remove the sorrowful things that bring tears for everyone...except herself._ She always did so much for others, Solas wondered if she ever did anything for herself, for her happiness and enjoyment...

"Interesting thoughts?" she asked innocently, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She had slowed down enough to walk beside him.

"Only of you," Solas said before he had time to consider his words. Numina blushed, her smirk growing faintly into a smile. "Of what you said earlier," he quickly amended, "Daughter of Tears."

She looked at him with a playful frown, "Are you ever going to use my name?"

"I..." what could he say? That her name was beautiful and he wanted to cherish it, using it less to indicate how unique it was, how unique she was? That he did not use it because it was too intimate for him and would make it more difficult to distance himself from her? "I did not think it was right to do so, and I did not know you very well."

"And now?"

_I know you far better than I should._ "I do not know... Perhaps."

She smiled at him. "And how are you supposed to get to know me if I am the one asking all the questions? Sure it is about your travels and the memories you have seen, but with each conversation, I learn a bit more about you as well."

"You may have a point," Solas agreed. "I did not wish to pry."

"No more than I do with you?" She was teasing him, the mischievous gleam in her eyes and the brightness of her smile intoxicating.

"Very well," he said, allowing himself to mirror her smile. "When we first met, you told us you were no mage, yet your use of magic proves otherwise. Why do you not call yourself such?"

Numina looked at him curiously, "You have pointed ears, does that make you a slave or do your pointed ears prove you that you are Fen'Harel or Elgar'nan?" she asked. From the corner of her eye, she saw Solas frown, wincing at the names of the Elven Pantheon. "What we have does not define us. I was not raised or taught to be a mage. Such a title does not define me as our ears do not define us."

"Why were you not trained as a mage?"

"There was already someone in the clan that had shown she had magic a few years before I did. Esholen was her name. The Keeper was already training Esholen as her apprentice. She thought it would be safer for the clan if I wasn't a mage." Numina saw the look of disapproval he wore. "I was fortunate. Other clans cast out children with magic if they view that there are too many mages already. Like Mineave. And I do not feel at a disadvantage for not training with the Keeper."

"You have a surprisingly strong will and an incredible amount of control for one not well practiced in magic," Solas observed.

Numina smiled wryly. "I never said I didn't practice." Solas looked at her questioningly. "I would practice in the Fade, shaping it into grassy training grounds surrounded by trees. There I would try to recreate the things Esholen would brag about, the ancient magicks you would here in old legends, the spells I would see the Keeper cast. It wasn't as difficult as you would think to learn that way, and I would do this every night, getting better with each dream. As I learned the skills of bows, daggers, and swords, I would incorporate that into my training with magic."

"You are completely self trained in magic?" Solas asked in disbelief.

"Is that so hard to believe? You have no formal training to speak of either."

There was a slight hesitation. "Yes, but I had the help of spirits and the memories of mages and magic to guide me," he stumbled through the sentence. "You should take credit where it is due. Few who are trained can match you in finesse or strength in whichever skill set you use."

"You flatter me," she said, her cheeks turning a warm pink.

"I _am_ trying to." He was smiling, teasing her.

Numina giggled softly, the warmth from her heart rising to her cheeks, making her laughter soft and fluttery, like the beating wings on a butterfly. They continued forward, walking closer to one another than was necessary but was not unenjoyed. Numina longed to feel his warmth, and Solas longed to feel her soft skin. But neither made a move other than to continue walking, their destination some unknown distance ahead of them.

Solas spoke again, continuing to learn about Numina. "If you do not define yourself as a mage, what do you consider yourself, beyond a Dalish elf?"

"My ancestors are the elves that refused to surrender when the humans broke their treaties long ago, and I would be proud to consider myself one of them," Numina said. "But being Dalish does not hold that kind of meaning anymore. It is now like saying you are Nevarran or Fereldan; it is a point of origin, not a description of what you are."

"Then what do you define yourself as?" Solas asked more specifically, approving of her answer.

Numina frowned at the question. What was she? Hunter, warrior, mage, arcanist, rogue, archer, assassin? Savior? She did not rightfully know, but there was something she hoped to be one day. Something that drove her forward during her day to day life before the Conclave and the Breach. "I would define myself as one who hopes to become a loremaster, a scholar that seeks out and remembers things long lost." She chuckled quietly, "Though I suppose that would be easier if I was fluent in elvish and could watch ancient memories in the Fade."

He was not expecting such an answer. Solas knew of her innate curiosity that drove Numina to find any information she could, but he did not realize that it was such a strong part of her personality. Her thirst for knowledge was endearing, and it brought him hope. _If she could learn the truth, see and practice the things long forgotten. It could be the first step in… _He could not linger on such thoughts. It would only bring him false hope. Numina, as determined and wise as she was, would never know even a fraction of the secrets the dead past held.

But maybe he could help her learn a few… "A loremaster?" he smiled. "An odd way to define yourself, though not without merit. And as for being able to see memories in the Fade, you are not so far from being capable. You have an exceptionally strong will. If you let go of some of the control you wield in your dreams, let go of the memories you use to shape the Fade, I do not think it will be difficult for you to learn some of the secrets that linger there."

Numina smiled faintly, thinking on his words.

"And I would like to thank you for answering my questions...Numina," her named rolled off of his tongue so easily and saying it left an imagined sweet taste in his mouth. The smile he received from her, he did not think anyone could smile as brightly or warmly as she did, outdoing the sun with her radiant happiness.

"Was that so hard?" she joked.

"No," he answered a smile of fondness gracing his lips.

Solas allowed Numina to take the lead once more. Watching her traverse the land with grace that beget beauty was enjoyable, the subtle sway of her hips and legs as she walked. Though he would never admit such thoughts. _We are very close_, the landscape one the horizon looking familiar to him.

There was one last ridge before them. It was much steeper than what they usually had to scramble over. Numina and Solas abandoned their packs beside the slope and made their way up. Solas intentionally matched Numina's pace once more. He wanted to be by her side for what came next.

What Numina saw left her in awe, mouth slightly agape, eyes widened. It was beautiful. A castle fit for nothing less than a king nestled in the snowy peaks of the mountains. She stood frozen in place. Mist was swirling softly around the ancient looking stone walls.

Solas stood beside her, watching her reaction. The look of shock she wore turned to a smile. Her eyes shone with hope. It was something he enjoyed seeing in her. For too long had events slowly crushed Numina's spirit, now as she looked upon the ancient fortress, Solas could see true life burning fiercely within her. That he had been the one to give her that hope gave him a sense of pride and warmed his heart.

"Skyhold." He told her.

Numina did not look back at him, she was transfixed by what lay before her. She took a few steps forward, minding the edge but hoping to get a closer look. The wind chased her, tugging at her hair. She looked like the true hero she was built to be, standing on a cliff that overlooked a fortress no one knew about that would become the home of the Inquisition.

"I would never have dreamed of such a place existing," she breathed.

"Very few are able to," Solas said with a smirk.

She smiled at him warmly, at his small joke. "We should return to the others. They will need help making their way here."

Solas nodded, but hesitated before following her back to the rest of the Inquisition. A part of him wondered if he had done the right thing, leading them to Tarasyl'an Te'las. But it was the same part of him that warned him against becoming too attached to Numina, the part of him that was growing quieter. He knew that he had done the right thing. For once in his life, it seemed.

~~.O.~~

Author's Note:

I realize that this chapter is a bit shorter than the others, but I honestly couldn't drag this out any more than I already did. And I didn't want to jump a few weeks ahead in a chapter, that's just confusing and doesn't flow in my opinion.

Anyway, hopefully I will have another chapter started and finished soon, but we shall see #collegelife

Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy. :)


	8. Chapter 8

To Build a Home

The next few weeks were very busy. Not even when they had marched on the Breach had so many people been moving around, from this thing to the next; and Numina was not accustomed to so many people working together on a single task: to rebuild Skyhold. And their efforts were not something that went unnoticed. Day by day, there was always something that had been completed, whether it was fixing one of the many holes in the roof, clearing out an area for some predetermined purpose, or building up the fortifications. The once ominous and forlorn fortress was now filled with life that worked to repair what time had withered down. This was the Inquisition's new home. It was Numina new home, something she was going to have to get used to.

And although there was much to do, Numina found that she was not able to do anything to help with the restoration. She had the ability, she was not allowed, however. Whenever she tried to assist in some task requiring strength or labor, a soldier, some member of the Inquisition, or an advisor would come over and insist that either they or some other person would be able to help; that she didn't need to wear herself out by helping. It was infuriating for Numina. With everyone stopping her every time she showed some inclination of pitching in, she had nothing really to do. The lack of purpose or distraction was driving her insane with boredom.

It was because she needed something to do that she sought Solas out. After a several minutes of looking, she was finally informed that he and Dorian were cataloguing the library and stocking the shelves with books the Inquisition had acquired or had been given as gifts. It was a very dull task, one she would not normally consider doing, but she enjoyed spending time with Solas, and perhaps he could make the time pass quicker for her. As she made her way to the library, she wondered how Solas had managed to rope Dorian into helping.

"Ah! If it isn't the mighty Inquisitor, vanquisher of evil!" Dorian exclaimed as Numina walked in. "Have you come to save us at last from the choking hands of boredom?"

Numina raised an eyebrow at Solas who stood near by; he offered her a faint smile before returning to the books he was trying to organize on the shelf. "I'm sure that if you asked Cullen, he would love to give you something to do that is much more interesting."

"Have I told you how much I love the mundane task of putting books on shelves?" Dorian asked with a smirk, quickly changing his tune.

Solas walked over to a stack of books piled beside Numina. "Is there something we can help you with, Inquisitor?"

"Actually yes. You can let me help you...shelve books."

Dorian burst out laughing. "Why on earth would you want to help us?"

"It's at least something to do," Numina sighed. "Everyone else insists that labor is above 'Inquisitor Lavellan, the Herald of Andraste.'" She threw her hands in the air in exasperation as she openly mocked her titles.

"We would welcome your help," Solas said, speaking more to the bookshelf than Numina.

She grabbed a stack of books and went to work, standing between both Dorian and Solas. "I can go up against demons and a hole in the sky, but _Maker_ forbid I aid in restoring Skyhold," she grumbled, locating the proper place for one of the books. "I wasn't nearly as bored when I went up against Corypheus."

Dorian placed another book on the shelf before shaking his head. "It is a rather brilliant story though, isn't it?" He asked snarkily, a smirk glued to his face. "One moment you're trying to restore order in a world gone mad- that should be enough for anyone to handle, yes- then, out of nowhere, an Archdemon appears and kicks you in the head!" His voice was laden with witty sarcasm. "'What? You thought this would be easy!?' 'No, I was just hoping you wouldn't crush our village like an anthill.' 'Sorry about that. Archdemons like to crush, you know. Can't be helped.' And now, because you are far too delicate, you must help the evil, yet dashing, Tevinter mage and the suspicious looking elven apostate shelve books because labor intensive work doesn't suit you." Numina didn't say anything, tactfully hiding her smile, she could tell Solas was doing the same as well. "Am I speaking to quickly for you?"

Numina burst out laughing having to hold on to the shelves she was working on, his humorous commentary drawing her mirth forward. "Oh, no," she chuckled. "I was just enjoying the show."

"So you were entertained by my wit and charm? I have plenty of both," he teased.

"How interesting to find someone so aware of his strengths," Solas added sarcastically.

"I'm a man of many talents," Dorian joked back. "What can I say?"

"A pity that properly cataloging books isn't one of them," Solas replied quickly.

"I'm the son of a Magister, my friend, meaning that menial tasks were _beneath _me," Dorian said in slightly sour tone, though he still kept his humorous inflection.

"That is what slaves are for, correct?" It was not the first time that Numina heard that harsh tone from Solas. It was part snark, part criticizing, and part accusation that equaled out to cruel insults masked behind polite manners. He often used it when speaking to Vivienne, though in that case, Numina usually agreed with it. Vivienne was abhorantly stuck up, carrying the belief that since she was a circle mage, she was inherently better than any other kind of mage.

She slammed a book abruptly on the shelf, turning her head towards Solas. Numina hadn't ever looked at him with anything other than kindness, but at that moment she glared at him with annoyance. "That was uncalled for," she snapped at him disapprovingly.

Though he was able to keep it hidden behind his polite mask, Numina's sudden harshness surprised him and, though it shouldn't have, made him feel guilty about the quipe he had made. Numina's effect on him had Solas agreeing with what she said. The comment was uncalled for.

The three of them worked in an awkward silence that you could nearly taste bitterly on your tongue. Numina had never show disapproval to any of her companions even if they were being rude to her. That she was so offended by Solas' comment was unexpected. Numina showed nothing but kindness to others, which is why both Solas and Dorian expected her to side with Solas and his glib insult. And truthfully, Numina did view slavery in the same light as Solas, disagreeing with the Qun much in the same way as well. However, there was something she could not stand even more: blaming an individual for something an entire culture did and holding onto grudges after centuries. It was the reason why, not even out of anger, she refused to use the word "shemlen" amongst humans. The only time she would use that insultive title was amongst her clan, and even then, there was no animosity behind the word, just casual referral. It was also why she refused to treat anyone with any kind of bias simply because of what they were or where they were from. Everyone deserved open kindness until they did not.

For a while the only sound you could here was the soft thump of heavy books being placed on shelves, the soft shuffling of feet as they went to replenish their arms with more from the piles that were towering slightly less than before, and the occasional sneeze from Dorian and Numina when they were shelving a particularly dusty tome. Finally, it was Dorian that broke the silence.

"You're what they call a Dalish elf, correct?"

"I am indeed," Numina answered lackluster, not turning from her work.

"There were never any Dalish clans in Tevinter, for obvious reasons," he continued. "Perhaps you wouldn't mind indulging in my curiosity?"

To her left, Numina heard Solas huff softly in disgust and amusement. _What is his problem?_ She thought, but quickly cast the question aside. "I assure you, the idea of the Dalish is much more interesting and romantic than the reality of it."

"None the less, I would like hearing about them. If you don't mind."

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the cynical amusement that Solas wore on his face. He clearly found something funny. "What would you like to know?"

"The only thing I do know is that the Dalish are groups of nomadic elves that live in clans and are hostile towards humans, especially Tevinter humans." Dorian smiled at her. "You can see my confusion since you are the most kind and polite person I have ever met, humans included, and you don't want to gouge my eyes out like everyone else."

"I did when you got us stranded in time," Numina teased, a smirk playing on her lips.

"When _I_ got us stranded in time?" Dorian asked incredulously with a grin. "My dear, if anyone got us stranded, it was you. You were the target, after all."

Numina smiled. "Mhm, sure I was," she hummed in amusement.

"So tell me," Dorian said, getting back on topic, "how would you describe the Dalish?"

Without hesitating, "Fools that are locked in a nostalgia about a past they cannot remember."

Dorian seemed a little taken aback by the her blunt answer. "Do you see nothing of merit for you kin or heritage?"

"Do you for Tevinter?" It was not an insult the way she said it.

"Yes." It was his turn to reply without hesitation. "Despite our many flaws, Tevinter cares deeply, about everything. We cherish our history and there is no other place so alit with passion. If I did not think Tevinter was worth anything, I would not miss it so much."

Numina thought on what Dorian had said. She was always speaking so harshly about the Dalish lifestyle as a whole, and only ever spoke of it as such. Yet, when she was ever thinking of the Dalish, she would think only of her clan, and that is what she missed. "You will never find different families so close as you would in a Dalish clan," she said reminiscently. "The bloodlines may be different, but the clan, the community, it is truly one large family. We care fiercely for one another. And you will never find any other people that are so intune with the world outside of civilization, so connected to nature." She stopped for a moment. "And at least we are trying to remember what was lost. We may get it wrong, not understand it correctly, or not recover it at all, but at least we are trying to recover a history that is worth remembering."

Dorian had a playfully sinister smirk plastered on his face, "And I thought you said the Dalish weren't romantic. I half expected you to burst into song."

"Shut up," Numina responded with a smile, tossing the book she held in her hands at him jokingly.

"Now that was uncalled for," he continued playfully, causing Numina to roll your eyes. Dorian chuckled before handing the book back to Numina, allowing her to place it on the proper shelf.

It was then that an Inquisition soldier entered the library. When he saw that Numina was there as well, the soldier dropped into a deep bow, "Herald of Andraste," he addressed her respectfully. "Sister Nightingale requests an audience with Master Pavus."

"I wonder… do you have orders to knock me upside the head if I refuse?" he asked with a smirk.

"We are not at liberty to fully disclose the tasks that are assigned to us," the soldier replied dryly.

"That would be a yes," Numina answered with a smile.

Dorian sighed, "And here I was just starting to enjoy myself," he joked, before giving an overly embellished bow, taking his leave with the Inquisition soldier guiding him to Leliana.

Numina and Solas were the only two left in the library now, and normally she would have enjoyed that, but Solas seemed to be in a sour mood for some reason. Things felt different between them now, and she had no idea why. It pained her heart thinking that she had done something wrong, something to make him act this way. Numina wanted nothing more than to please him, to find the source of the problem and correct it; but she worried that by questioning him she would only make it worse. Instead she continued to shelve books to their proper places by origin, genre, and alphabetically. It was slow work for the library was rather large, but Solas and Numina kept up a decent pace, reducing the many stacks of books at a steady rate.

There was one book Numina was working on that needed to go on the top shelf. It had been mixed improperly amongst a stack of Chantry texts and belonged over by where Solas was working. As she approached, she saw him shift away slightly, as if he did not want to be near her. Numina felt a small pang of sorrow, but pushed it to the side. Grabbing a chair from one of the nearby tables, she placed it in front of the shelves, quietly lamenting the fact that she was so small. The book belonged on the highest shelf, and she needed not only to stand on the chair, but also brace herself against the back of it, leaning forward so she could reach.

She must have been leaning further forward than she thought, because at that moment, the chair beneath her shifted. Numina let out a startled gasp as it slid out from underneath her. Reaching out to catch herself on something, she knocked down a few books, yet was unable to save herself from the small fall; it was Solas who stepped in front of her, allowing her to crash into his arms that saved her from the bite of the library's stone floor.

Solas held her tightly in his strong arms, keeping her upright as Numina regained her footing. A few books glanced off his shoulder as they fell, clattering onto the floor. Lightly, Numina pulled herself from his grasp, hands pushing off his chest tenderly. She did not meet him in the eye, fearing what she might see there.

"I am so very sorry Solas," she said quickly. "I did not mean to." With the same nervous rush, Numina swiftly bent down to retrieve the books that had fallen from their perch.

Solas followed her with slow subtle movements, helping her pick the tomes up, though he did not say anything. Silently they returned the fallen books back to their places. Solas doing so with slow and calculated movements; Numina with quick jarring movements out of nervousness, hoping that she hadn't displeased him further.

The last book on her hand was the one that had started the mess in the first place. Gracefully she turned to Solas, her head slightly bowed. "Perhaps you can reach it better than I can," she said in a musical whisper.

Her eyes were finally allowed to meet his, and in them Solas saw innocence and worry. A small pang of sorrow twisted his heart and flashed in his eyes. He had not meant to hurt her with his words or actions. But over the past few weeks, he had come to realize that how close they had become would end in tragedy. Solas had hoped to find a way to distance himself from her, and in doing so he had become bitter and irritable. The jab at Dorian had been a consequence, as had been the mocking thoughts he had as Numina spoke of the Dalish, coloring her in the same light he did the Dalish as a whole. Solas had not meant to hurt her, but the bitterness had come from what his fate, what his path made him do to accomplish his goals.

Solas tried to look apologetically as he accepted the book. His fingers lightly brushed against hers, but she did not let go of the book. Her intense gaze, eyes of barren ice and luscious life, held his own. "Is there something wrong, Solas?" she asked quietly.

There was a pain in his chest deeper than the one he had felt before. Her shoulders lowered, gaze cast downwards, and her body slightly tense, it was not hard for Solas to read her true question: "_Did I do something wrong?_" Numina thought it was her fault for the sudden change in the way he was acting. Guilt strangled him softly. Neither of them let go of the book.

"No," Solas finally answered. "I apologize. I must appear as though I'm acting strangely. I am not used to being amongst so many people," he lied. "It's affecting the way I am treating those around me."

Numina frowned slightly, a part of her sensing the lie, but she did not pursue it. "Would you like me to leave you?" she asked.

"That is the last thing I would want," he said, speaking more truthfully than he usually did. _No. Don't do it. It will end in disaster,_ a small part of him yelled, but it was a voice that was stifled. Solas tenderly trailed his fingers over hers, relishing the feel of Numina's soft skin against his fingertips. A faint smile touched his lips when he saw her cheeks turning a subtle rose colored pink, but she did not pull her hand away. "I enjoy your company, Numina." Solas added, using her name for increased intimacy. Even though she had all but given him leave to use her name, it was still something he considered precious and unique, something to use occasionally to add passion or emotion.

At the sound of her name, Numina looked up at him, her eyes shining brightly. The corners of her lips were turned up in a small smile. "And I enjoy yours as well, Solas."

There was a clamor on the stairs that quickly drew their attention. Numina let go of the book retreating a step or two away from Solas while he quickly turned to the shelf, getting back to work as though nothing had happened.

Dorian sauntered in, smug smile on his face. He looked from Numina to Solas a few times before chuckling. "Did I interrupt something?" he asked coyly.

Numina, who had grabbed another armful of books, shrugged, "No."

"Now I know that's a lie," Dorian continued, his smile turning into a mischievous grin. "You two look like innocent puppies that tore up the furniture and hope that no one realizes it was you that made the mess."

"If anything we were cleaning up the mess you left us with," Numina replied lightly. "I must admit, I am surprised that you came back."

"I probably wouldn't have if Leliana hadn't told me to send for you after she was done threatening me," he said surprisingly unconcerned.

"She threatened you," Numina asked with a small amount of alarm.

"I'm a Tevinter mage fighting against Tevinter supremacists under the command of an ancient Tevinter Magister in a world that hates Tevinter," he answered with dry humor. "I would be concerned if I wasn't threatened from time to time." Numina shrugged, slightly. _He does have a point,_ she conceded. "Anyway, Leliana wanted me to tell you that she and the other advisors will be waiting for you in the war room shortly. As well as Varric, who has something to share."

Numina nodded her understanding and turned to Solas, "Perhaps we can finish our conversation later?" she asked, a flirtatious smile given only to him.

Solas returned her smile, "I would not mind." His voice was soft and gentle, words caressing her softly like a stream would if you stood in the middle of it.

So as not to give Dorian any more ammunition against them, Solas forced his attention back to the task at hand, refusing to watch Numina leave even though he drastically desired to. He longed to follow her, momentarily forgetting that he should be distancing himself. He wished to keep her talking, to hear the music of her voice that was soothing and especially pleasing when she hummed his name as though it were a word in a melody. These were private thoughts that he would not share, and they were thoughts that led to him conceiving a brilliant plan. One that involved dreams.

~~.O.~~

It was a beautiful morning in Skyhold. The sun was shining bright, illuminating the grounds in a soft glow. People were carrying on with their tasks, going to and fro. Some would pause as they passed Numina, offering a small bow or nod of respect to the Inquisitor before carrying on. It was easy to find hope in this place, cast in a positive light, protected and sheltered from everything that had happened leading up to this moment.

Though she did not wish to push Solas, fearing that he may view her as an eager child, Numina sought him out in the rotunda he had claimed as his own, beautiful fiasco's painted on the walls. Her plan was to play innocent, saying that she merely wanted to talk about his journeys and such.

He was in his study as he always was unless he needed to retrieve a book from the library. Solas was leaning over his desk slightly, sifting through some of the many papers that were piled somewhat neatly about. When he heard her enter, a smile graced his lips as he turned to face her, eyes lighting up. "Inquisitor," he said in formal greeting.

Numina smiled. "Solas, I was wondering if you had some time to tell me more of yourself and your studies. I find it all very fascinating."

He chuckled softly, amused by something he knew and she did not. "You continue to surprise me. All right, let us talk...preferably somewhere more interesting than this." There was a knowing smile on his face as he lead her from the study.

The sunlight became suddenly blinding from outside. Numina's vision faded into a nothingness white. Solas had taken her by the hand and was leading her. Gravel crunched beneath her feet as she walked. Indistinct conversation flitted around her, a pleasant background noise. The breeze was chilly, influenced by the frozen tundra that surrounded Haven; it carried soft snowflakes with it that melted on her pale skin. Once Numina's vision returned, she saw that he was leading her towards the Chantry, past all the tents and building that had been converted to better serve the newly fledged Inquisition.

"Why here?" she asked curiously.

Solas let go of her hand once he saw that her eyesight had returned and carried on, "Haven is familiar. It will always be important to you." he answered, teasing at the truth she had not realized yet, his magic and manipulation of the Fade muffling the confusion she should have been feeling.

"This is where everything changed and where everything began," she mused agreeingly.

They continued towards the Chantry, walking through its doors and descending down the stairs into the holding chambers. Though it had been a while and she had not been fully lucid at the time, Numina recognized the cell they entered. It was the one she first woke up in. When she first found out about the mark on her hand. The place where everything in her world was uprooted.

"I sat beside you while you slept, studying the Anchor," he told her.

"I'm glad someone was watching over me," Numina said. _I'm glad it was you,_ she wanted to add.

"You were a mystery." He turned and smiled. "You still are." The smiled faded faintly. "I ran every test I could imagine. Searched the Fade, yet found nothing. Cassandra suspected duplicity. She threatened to have me executed as an apostate if I didn't produce results."

"Cassandra's like that with everyone," she responded playfully.

Solas chuckled. "Yes," he agreed, before leading Numina out of the dreadful building and back into the snow covered village.

"You were never going to wake up. How could you? A mortal sent physically through the Fade?" Numina looked at him curiously. For the amount of time she had known him, Solas had never seemed bewildered by anything. He always had an answer or a possible explanation. "I was frustrated, frightened," his voice broke for a second. "The spirits I might have consulted had been driven away by the Breach." Numina was surprised for a second time by him. He had never been open with his emotions, always being level headed, the one she could rely on to have a clear mind. "Although I wished to help, I had no faith in Cassandra...or she in me. I was ready to flee."

"Yet you stayed," Numina all but hummed. Solas could hear the admiration in her voice, and he thought it misplaced.

He nodded. "I told myself: one more attempt to seal the rifts." He held out his hand towards the Breach that swirled angrily in the sky as if he were about to cast a spell. "I tried and failed," his hand dropping. "No ordinary magic would affect them. I watched the rifts expand and grow, resigned myself to flee, and then…"

_Solas reached abruptly for Numina's left arm, the one that held the mark, yanking it towards the green, flowing glass in the sky. Her hand responded to the rift, and trendles from her hand linked her to the green mass. It was strange, not painful, but there was a sensation behind it she could not entirely describe. Almost like a sharing of energies. Solas still had ahold of her wrist, his fingers wrapped tightly around it, firmly, as if the stabilize her arm. Suddenly the energy was cut off, a pulse that destroyed the link and the rift that had hung in the air before them._

"It seems you hold the key to our salvation," he said, echoing the memory that they had relived. "You had sealed it with a gesture… and right then, I felt the whole world change."

"'Felt the whole world change?'" Numina echoed softly, taking few steps forward with grace that made it unnoticed by him.

"A figure of speech," Solas amended quickly.

But Numina would not let it go. All of his slips and words spoken between them had not been forgotten. "I'm aware of the metaphor," she teased softly. "I'm more interested in 'felt.'"

"You change everything," Solas said, his voice betraying uncertainty.

"Sweet talker," she hummed. It was then that Solas realized how closely she stood to him, her gracefully slender figure standing in his shadow. He thought to step bac,. _Distance_, he reminded himself, yet he did nothing.

There was only a moment of awkwardness, as Numina lowered her head, both of them trying hard not to look at the other. Her resolve had built itself up, though, as did her courage. Her left hand braced softly against his chest while her right suddenly, softly caressed his cheek, turning him to face her. Before either of them knew it, Numina's lips were pressed against his.

The kiss was tender and light, equal parts passionate and reserved out of uncertainty. Solas did not have time to react before Numina pulled away. He was not able to savour the taste of her lips against his. And as Numina turned to bring a proper distance between them, a mischievous smile warmed his expression as he shook his head lightly. _You are not getting away that easily_.

Solas grabbed Numina's arm and pulled her playfully against him, their bodies pressed against one another. His arms snaked around her waist, drawing her even closer to him. His lips crashed on to hers, soft passion turning into deepening desire. Numina was enveloped in his warmth, her hand on his shoulder and arm for balance as he dipped her romantically, his thigh running along the insides of her legs as he held her up, felt her up, chasing her with his fierce kisses. His tongue brushed fervently against her lips. She opened up to him, relishing his touch, lost in the heat and lust of the moment. They danced between their lips with kisses.

Solas pulled away for a moment, his eyes filled with desire. His resolve to distance himself finally crumbled as he shook his head at this beautiful woman he now held in his arms. Her eyes looked at him, a soft question amongst the adoration that thrived there with him standing before her. His next kiss was much more tender, their lips brushing softly. Numina melted into him once more, hoping that this moment wouldn't end.

Finally he pulled away from her, the air chilling Numina where his warmth had once been. "We shouldn't," he said, trying to convince himself more than her. "It isn't right. Not even here."

"What do you mean, 'even here?'" the question wasn't angry. It wasn't hurt by the sudden ending of the their passion. Though she wished they could have been that close for longer, she understood enough to not be upset.

A smile of teasing amusement spread on his lips. "Where do you think we are?"

The cloud that had muddle her thoughts was suddenly gone. Numina looked around at her surroundings with a new light. Solas could see realization dawn on her almost instantly. "This is the Fade," she mused, her words a beautiful and thoughtful whisper. She looked at him and smiled. "So you are the man of dreams?" she asked flirtatiously.

Solas chuckled, "Technically."

Numina hummed in amusement, stepping closer to him. For a second she thought he might retreat, having been the one to end their last kiss; but he stood where he was, watching her with adoration as she approached. She stood before him, nearly as close as they had been in the heat of their passion. Her fingers traced along the side of his cheek teasingly. "Then we should do this more often," she whispered provocatively, placing one more kiss on his lips.

Smooth and soft against his own lips, he welcomed her touch once more, closing his eyes to enjoy it thoroughly as he brought up his hands to run it through her locks of captured starlight. He breathed in her scent, wildflowers and trees, a forest wild, untamed, yet no less beautiful or alluring.

She was gone. His eyes opened, finding no trace of Numina except for the faint whisper of her teasing against his skin. Solas was no longer in Haven either. He found himself amongst towering trees, a wooded meadow of green and vibrant colors. Bird fluttered amongst the trees, singing love songs. Butterflies glided amongst the flowers.

Solas couldn't help but smile. Numina had distracted him with a kiss, shattering his focus and bringing his attention to her. And in that moment, she had moulded the dream, leaving him a mystical forest in place of the village. _Minx_, he thought, chuckling at her creativity. Not many could shape the Fade to something they wanted, even fewer could do so on such an accurate and believable scale, and even fewer still could do so, so quickly.

When the dream faded and they both awoke, lying in their bed, thinking back longingly to the dream; they wore smiles that remained on their faces for some time as the taste of one another lingered on their tongues. It had only been a dream, but the feeling of the experience crossed the boundary into reality easily.

~~.O.~~

Numina's thoughts were not her own for the rest of the day. She could not help it. Every time she was focusing on something, her mind would wander back to the dream. A smile would play upon her lips as she remember his warm touch and his passionate kiss. Numina wanted nothing more than to find him in the rotunda, but there were more pressing issues at hand. The Inquisition needed to prepare for travel to Crestwood. Scouts would be sent first, though they needed supplies which were in short stock at the moment. Though they had been replenished since arriving in Skyhold, stocking for exploration and expansion across Thedas was not planned for. For the moment, the concern had been building up Skyhold. It would be a week at most before they could follow Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall, to Crestwood.

Never in her wildest dreams did Numina think she would meet the famed Hawke. Even when Varric had introduced them it was a little hard to believe. But it was really her, Alexandria Hawke, the raven haired mage whose beauty and finesse were only matched by the insurmountable power she wielded as a mage. And yet when Numina met her, she saw none of that. If anything, she saw a reflection of herself: a woman who threw herself at dragons because she had to, because no one else would. She saw a woman who cared deeply for others, her lover Anders more than any. And she saw a woman who was infuriated that she had failed to kill Corypheus, an old enemy from a Warden Prison. But Hawke was still a woman, ordinary like most, yet a hero in actions and strength because of what fate had put her through.

But for right now, her "hero worshipping," as Varric called it, would have to wait. Vivienne was having a over embellished fit about one of Numina's companions: the ever mysterious Cole. Numina only had the opportunity to speak to Cole in a few instances since their arrival at Skyhold. Most of the time she did not remember to look for him, and she would not know where to begin. Such were his strange abilities.

Numina descended the stairs into the courtyard where Vivienne stood in a heated argument with Solas, Cassandra nearby, probably making sure that Vivienne did not lunge at Solas. Cole sat at the bottom of the stairs, cross-legged in the grass, rocking back and forth slightly. As she reached the last step, she looked at Cole and offered him a smile.

"She's afraid," he said ominously.

"This thing is not a stray puppy you can make into a pet. It has no business being here." Vivienne sneered politely.

"Time to go and moderate the argument," Numina sighed.

"Frustrating. Always turning to you. Your opinion. Your decision. But it is better that way," Cole said, not looking at her as he spoke.

"Wouldn't you say the same of an apostate?" Solas countered.

Vivienne frowned. _That means yes_. Numina had to stop herself from shaking her head. The enchanter's belief all who did not go to a circle are filthy, uncultured beasts was honestly starting to annoy Numina.

"Inquisitor," Cassandra greeted her. "I was wondering if Cole was perhaps a mage given his unusual abilities."

"He can cause people to forget him, or even fail entirely to notice him," Solas supplied. "These are not the abilities of a mage. It seems that Cole is a spirit."

"It is a _demon_," Vivienne hissed.

"If you prefer, although the truth is somewhat more complex," Solas replied snidely.

Numina had to hold back the urge to roll her eyes. "Not everything that's different from your view of 'normal' makes it a demon," she added. "Cole warned us about Corypheus at Haven. He saved a lot of lives."

"I believe I have a greater grasp of normal than someone who was raised in some secluded forest," Vivienne said with narrowed eyes. The veiled insult did not go unnoticed. "And what will its help cost? How many lives will this demon later claim?"

"In fact, his nature is not so easily defined," Solas said, refuting what Vivienne said of Cole.

Cassandra sighed, loudly. "Speak plainly, Solas. What _are _we dealing with?"

"Demons normally enter this world by possessing something. In their true form, the look bizarre, monstrous. Yet Cole looks like a young man."

"Is it possession?" Cassandra asked.

"No. He has possessed nothing and no one, and yet he appears human in all respects." Solas turned to Numina. "Cole is unique, Inquisitor. More than that, he wishes to help. I suggest you allow him to do so."

Vivienne glowered at Numina, and although spiting her was enjoyable, Numina wanted to speak with Cole to make her decision. "I should hear what Cole has to say." She turned to look back to look where Cole had been sitting in the grass. She could see the outline of where had been, smashed blades giving that much away, but Cole was no longer there. "Well, he was there," Numina said quietly.

"He does not tend to stay in one place for very long," Solas said, his voice giving away his slight amusement. "Too much to do, it seems."

There was movement in the corner of Numina's eye that caught her attention. His large hat was easy to spot. Cole stood amongst the people in the makeshift infirmary, though the people around took no notice of his presence. Numina gave the others a nod in dismissal before walking towards him.

"Haven. So many soldiers fought to protect the pilgrims so they could escape," he said quietly as Numina approached. He was staring intently at one of the soldiers that lay on the ground, a bloody mess. "Choking fear, can't think from the medicine, but the cuts wrack me with every heartbeat. Hot white pain, everything burns. I can't. I can't. I'm going to… I'm dying. I'm…" Cole's voice trailed off. "Dead."

"Your feeling their pain?" Numina asked in alarm. Not for herself or others, but out of concern for him. _To feel their pain…_ She couldn't imagine it.

"You're worried. Don't be. I'm alright. This is what I am. Who I am." He looked at her, his pale eyes lost in bangs of golden hay. "It's louder this close, with so many of them."

"Why don't you go somewhere else?" she asked.

"It would be quieter, but here is where I can help." With that he moved towards a different soldier that lay amongst the injured. "Every breath slower, like lying in a warm bath. Sliding away. Smell of my daughter's hair when I kiss her goodnight," his was voice a near whisper. "Gone."

Numina could not help but feel sorrow. These were people fighting for her, and dying for her. Now she knew what they had thought of in their last moments. She felt guilty for leading them inadvertently to their deaths.

"Do not feel sad," he told her. "They do not blame you. You shouldn't blame you." Before Numina could reply he looked away. "Cracked brown pain, dry, scraping. Thirsty." He walked over and brought a woman water. "Here."

"Thank you," she wheezed hoarsely.

Cole looked back at Numina. "It's alright. She won't remember me."

"You're using your powers as a spirit to help people," Numina commented.

"Yes," he rose to his feet. "I used to think I was a ghost. I didn't know. I made mistakes… but I made friends too." He looked down. "Then a templar proved I wasn't real. I lost my friends. I lost everything." Cole turned to her. "I learned how to be more like what I am. It made me different, but stronger. I can feel more. I can help."

"If you would like to, we could use your help, Cole."

"Yes, helping. I help the hurt, the helpless. There's someone…" his voice trailed off and he turned to walk to a different soldier. "It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, someone make it stop hurting. Maker please…" Cole placed a hand on the hilt of the dagger strapped to his belt. "The healers have done all they can. It will take hours for him to die. Every moment will be agony. He wants mercy. Help."

Numina felt sorrow, but at the same time, she knew she would ask for no less if she were in such a position. "Alright. Help him."

It was quick and painless."I want to stay," Cole said.

Numina nodded. "Stay," she told him. His features relaxed from their natural pained expression for a moment as if he were about to smile, and then Cole was gone.

With a sigh of relief that the situation wasn't nearly as bad as Vivienne made it out to be, Numina turned on her heel and walked all the way back into the main hall of Skyhold, passing Varric as she entered the rotunda. Every time she entered, the frescos painted on the wall would momentarily distract her. She loved the intricate detail of the artwork.

Solas was at his desk, reading some ancient tome he had found or brought with him. His eyes following the words as he turned the page. Upon hearing her enter, Solas offered her a smile, closing the book shut and setting it on his desk. "I take it you were able to come to a decision in regards to Cole?" he asked.

"Yes. He wants to stay and help, and I see no harm in that," Numina answered.

"I am glad. Though I am sure you won no favors with Vivienne."

"She does not seem to be trying to win any favors with me," Numina said a bit coldly. "I see no point in trying to do so for. Not that I allowed Cole to stay simply to spite her."

"I see. I am sorry, by the way, for that comment she made earlier," Solas said earnestly, searching in her eyes to see if there was any hurt or bitterness because of Madame de Fer's insult. "It seems that those who are isolated have more wisdom than those raised in a supposed place of knowledge."

"Thank you, Solas, but you don't need to worry. I have had far better insults thrown my way." A small smile brightened her expression.

Solas gave her a smile of his own, subtle yet warm, admiring her for refusing to place value in something that was false. "Did you sleep well last night?" he asked, a flirtatious tone lacing his words.

Numina's smile grew, and her cheeks had a whisper of pink tinging them. "When I looking to speak to you, I hadn't realized I was doing so in the Fade," she admitted in a singsong way. "I also didn't realize we would be_ doing _it in the Fade."

Solas' bright chuckle echoed softly against the walls of the rotunda, dancing around the room. "I apologize. The kiss was impulsive and ill considered. And I should not have encouraged it."

At those words, Numina's heart would have sank, but something in his voice gave away that he was trying to convince himself of such things, that he did not fully mean it. "You say that now," she said, dropping her voice into a lower more alluring melody as she stepped closer to him, "but you were the one that started with tongue."

"I did no such thing," he replied, sounding slightly appalled at the idea.

"Oh!" Numina teased, stopping directly in front of him. She could see the red on his cheeks. "Does it not count if it's in the Fade? I was unaware of that rule."

Solas fidgeted under her icy green gaze, finally looking away from her tempting expression. "It has been a long time," he said quickly, nearly blurting it out as he stumbled over the words. "And things have always been _easier _for me in the Fade." He looked back into her eyes, face apologetic and eyes that said he was lost. "I am not certain this is the best idea. It could lead to trouble."

_He sounds afraid,_ Numina noticed, and in that moment, she understood why. Two people working within an organization, an army, that sought to overthrow a creature who aspired to becoming a god growing close to one another, maybe even falling in love? The story was already on the verge of being a tragedy, being together would make it that much easier for it to be so._ But I…_ she what? Numina did not know how she felt about Solas. _I care for him a great deal… and when I'm with him, I have more hope. I feel like I'm home and less alone in the world._

"I'm willing to take that chance," she said, placing her hand lightly on his chest. "If you are."

Solas reached up, and for a moment Numina worried that he would remove her hand. Instead he enveloped it in his own, squeezing her hand lightly in his gentle grasp. "I...may be…yes" he said in a hesitating whisper. "If I could have a little time to think…"

Numina was the one to pull away from him gently, taking back her hand, oblivious to the disappointment that flashed through Solas' eyes. "Take all the time you need," she hummed pleasantly.

"Thank you," he breathed. "I am not often thrown by things that happen in dreams."

"Did you enjoy what you saw when you opened her eyes?" she asked with a playful smirk.

He chuckled again, lighter this time. "I have to admit, that was a first for me. I have never had someone change the nature of the dream without being aware of it."

"You _were _distracted," she said with a wink.

"Indeed I was." There was laughter in his voice that was pleasant to her ears. "I am curious how you managed to create a landscape so completely in such little time, though."

"I will reveal my tricks, if you reveal yours, Solas." Numina replied her smirk still playing on her expression. "Like how I thought walking through Haven was normal."

Solas gave her a handsome smile. "Very well," he said, motioning for her to sit with him on the couch.

This may have be a terrible idea, indeed, but there was no doubt in Solas' mind that he would enjoy every second of it.

~~.O.~~

"Inquisitor," Josephine called out as she approached the group. "If I could have a quick moment of your time?"

Numina was saddling her horse along with the others she had chosen to accompany her to Crestwood. Solas was standing to her left and Cole was receiving help from the Iron Bull in front of her. The spirit really had no idea what to do with the beast, trying to talk the saddle into getting on the horse.

"Of course," Numina said, turning from her work. "What can I help you with?"

"We received word from your clan, Keeper Maleenain to be exact."

That grabbed Numina's full attention. "Are they alright?" she asked, worry speeding her words.

"Yes," Josephine reassured her. "They were inquiring about you. I was wondering if we should ask for their aid or offer an alliance of some sort."

Her thoughts quickly turned to the darker side of her clan's life. While she was well loved by some of her clansmen, there were others that were suspicious and despised her. Some trusted her and enjoyed having her around, while others whispered behind her back and believed she did not belong. Esholen was one of the malevolent forces in the clan that stood against others, and her position as First had allowed her to conscript others to her view of Numina.

"That is not wise," Numina said hesitantly. Josephine rose an eyebrow, clearly expecting an explanation. "I...I do not think that aligning themselves with the Inquisition would be safe. They must already be in danger because they are the Dalish clan that the Herald of Andraste came from. They would become a bigger target if they allied with us."

"I see…" Josephine said. Numina couldn't tell if that wasn't the answer she was hoping for or that she sensed there was something more to Numina's hesitation to ask her clan for aid. Perhaps it was both. "Is there anything you would like me to add to the response? A personal touch?"

"Add that I send my regards to Keeper Maleenain...and Arleth."

"Very well, Inquisitor. I hope you have a safe journey."

With a slight bow, Josephine withdrew; and Numina finished saddling her horse and cinching the saddlebags to it. Iron Bull had finished helping Cole with his own horse, and the young boy now sat atop the animal, looking awkward and petrified. It did not stop him from prodding in the minds of others.

"Why didn't you tell her the truth?" He asked innocently and confused.

Numina could feel the Solas and Iron Bull turn their gaze to her. "I did tell her the truth," she said, hauling herself on top of her own mount.

"Why are you lying?" Cole persisted.

"I'm not."

"Yes you are."

Iron Bull decided to interrupt this near childish argument. "Hey, kid, if there's one thing you should know, it's this: if a woman doesn't want to give something up, she won't. No matter what."

"That's not entirely true," Numina commented calmly, watching as Solas brought his horse to stand beside hers. She could feel his pale storms boring into her.

"Oh?" Bull teased. "If that's the case, then why is Cole so convinced that you didn't tell Josephine the truth."

Numina hesitated. "Alright," she conceded, "you may have a point."

Bull chuckled in amusement at her as he dragged himself on top of his horse. For a moment Numina was slightly afraid he might squish the poor animal. Noticing all their eyes on him now, "I bet you all were thinking the horse's legs was going to give out from underneath me."

"You do look really heavy," Cole said in a childish voice, making both Numina and Solas laugh quietly to themselves.

Bull's faint grumbling bringing a small smile to Numina's face, she spurred her horse forward through Skyhold's gate. Once the animal's hooves were smacking loudly on the stone, she spurred it into a gallop, leading the way to Crestwood, thankful that they no longer had to cover such great distances by foot anymore.

The countryside seemed to fly by, her eyes not being able to catch all the detail of it as it blurred slightly together. Birds and small critters scattered at the sound of the thundering hooves, crying out in alarm. The wind whipped around Numina, tugging her hair into a long flowing mass of captured moonlight, teasing knots into it as flew it this way and that. Numina loved the feeling of too much air as it filled her lungs quicker than she needed it to. At first her eyes watered at the rush of the wind, but they quickly became used to it. After a while, Numina slowed her horse down to a much less exhausting speed, allowing them to travel quickly without killing the poor things

Horses cannot go on forever, though, and after a few hours, they group dismounted and led their mounts to give them a break from the strain of carrying riders and supplies. The group carried on in silence a while, each to their own thoughts. Except for maybe Cole, no doubt he was reading the other's thoughts rather than having any of his own.

"Voices behind my back, whispering hating. Narrowed eyes, hateful slits, peering and judging what they refuse to understand. Harsh words digging into my skin. 'You don't belong here,' their faces scream. Knowing, taunting, malicious smirk, enjoying my pain. First and hateful. A Keeper of disappointment. 'Why can't they understand? Why can't they accept something different?' Blindly the hiss and whisper, always quiet enough for me to hear." Cole's next words came out in an evil hiss. "Halfbreeder. Heretic. Harellan!"

"Enough Cole!" Numina said shakily, pain and shame lacing her words. She had not realized what he was talking about at first, but as she began to recognize her own thoughts, she was filled with dread. His last word echoed angrily inside her head. _Harellan, a traitor to one's kin_, I earned that name the day I made the mistake of sharing my opinion with Esholen back when she did not hate me so.

"But it hurts you! It's why you lied to Josephine."

Numina's cheeks turned red with embarrassment and mortification. She was thankful for being in the lead; the others could not see her they did not need to. Solas and The Iron Bull could read people almost as well as Cole. They could read the discomfort and sense of distraught and pain simply from how tensely she now walked beside her horse.

"I suggest you leave the matter alone, kid," Bull tried.

"But she thinks they hate her, that it's bad for her to think differently about-!"

"Please leave it Cole," Numina said in a sorrowfully flat tone. "I do not wish to discuss it."

The spirit remained silent, realizing that his helping was actually hurting. He would remember it though. He would try to heal it. When she was ready.

The silence was awkward from that point on. The air tingled with the heat of curiosity she could feel coming off Solas and Bull. They kept it to themselves for a surprisingly long time, however. Mounting their horses once more, the group was able to cover several miles before the topic was unavoidably brought up.

"What does Harellan mean, Solas?" Bull asked, trying to do so without Numina hearing, though it was not successful. Outside of the horses hooves tramping on the ground, there wasn't much else in the ways of sounds.

"It's elvish slang adopted after the fall of Arlathan," Solas explained quietly, knowing that Numina was fully aware of the conversation, "derived from the name 'Fen'Harel,' commonly viewed as the trickster god that locked away the rest of the elven pantheon, dooming the elves to become what they are now." His voice was tinged with sadness for whom this word was applied to. "It means 'a traitor to one's own kin.'"

"Damn!" Bull hissed in anger to those that would call Numina such a thing. "And I'm assuming that the Dalish refer to the children of an elf and a human as a 'halfbreed,' meaning that halfbreeder is… Shit!" He shook his head angrily.

Solas agreed with Iron Bull on this one, muttering a string of elven curses under his breath for the ones that would use such a name to describe a person he found himself caring deeply for. _Leave it to the Dalish to continue to prove themselves to be arrogant fools..._

After a small interlude of silence, Solas spoke up, "Why would your own clan call you that, Numina?" He spoke in a soft tone, using her name in the hope of getting her to open up.

"I do not want to talk about it," she replied flatly, trying to keep any kind of emotion out of her voice.

Solas bowed his head respectfully."Very well. I simply do not understand how the most compassionate and honest person I have met could have such harsh, unfitting title."

"We all make mistakes with who we can trust. Especially with those we consider family," she said, her harsh words gliding on the wind. The matter was dropped. Once again, only for the moment.

Numina tried distracting herself from the emotions and memories Cole had provoked with his prying. She focused on the surroundings around her, trying to think of the elven word that matched what she saw. When she soon found herself reciting "Adahl," _tree, _more than anything else, Numina simply turned to thinking the word and their translation, attempting to string together new phrases._Var sa'elgaren, our spirits are one,_ was her favorite attempt so far, but she had no idea if she had constructed it properly.

Dry thunder rumbled ominously in the distance, jarring Numina from her distraction. Monstrous black clouds loomed in the sky ahead of them. The wind was picking up speed, pushing against them as if it was warning them about the storm that followed it. They were going to have to find a place to take shelter or else risk facing the wrath of the coming storm. Numina turned in her saddle, looking back at her companions. "Fan out and try to find some place for us to take shelter, preferably with enough room for the horses."

Wordlessly, Solas, Cole, and Iron Bull tugged on their mounts reigns and spread out amongst the trees. As time went on, the wind grew ever stronger. Fortunately, Iron Bull found a place where it looked like part of a cliff had sheared off, creating a large opening and cave along the side of the rocky wall. It was large enough to offer protection for themselves and the horses.

The first few rain drops had began to fall when they all made it inside. Then the sky opened up and a sheet of rain started crashing down, ringing loudly as it smashed against everything. "Looks like we just made it," Numina breathed, removing the saddle and supplies her mount had carried. They prepared a meal once the horses were unloaded and roped together in the back of the cave, and ate in silence. Afterwards, the others set out their bedrolls, thankful that tents were not needed since the wind was blowing the opposite direction of the entrance.

Numina did not join them, however. Instead she walked over to the opening of the cave, gazing out into the rain. Lightning flashed through their, illuminating everything in violent light before the roar of thunder drowned out even the sound of the rain. She could feel the tiniest of splashes hitting her face as raindrops smacked against the walls and ground around her.

Cole was beside her. "You should talk," he said. "Talking helps you. Especially to Solas. You really like him."

She dropped her gaze the the soaked ground before her, not having to admit to what Cole said because he already knew it was the truth. "What were their reactions?" Numina asked fearfully.

"There was a lot of anger and disbelief," Cole answered. "They are mad at the ones who call you harellan, and they don't understand how you could be called something like that. It doesn't fit." He held her gaze. "It doesn't fit," he told her.

Numina sighed heavily, before walking back to Solas and Iron Bull. Both of them sat around the fire. Bull was sharpening his overly large sword and Solas was reading a tome he had brought along with him. As she sat atop her bedroll, their eyes turned to her, before quickly flashing back to what they were doing. They were blatantly trying to let her know that they were still curious about what Cole had read from her by trying to hide their curiosity badly.

"You know it's almost a bit ironic that 'harellan' is derived from Fen'Harel's name," she said in a quietly smooth voice. It carried an edge of sorrow on its gently ripples. Numina stared into the dancing flames, looking at neither of them. "Fen'Harel is actual the reason I am harellan to some of my clan."

"Your trickster god gave you that title?" Bull asked, confused.

Numina shook her head. "No, nothing like that. But you should know the entire legend the Dalish believe in: Fen'Harel, the Dread Wolf, is kin to the the Creators, the elven pantheon the Dalish worship; but he was also recognized by the Forgotten Ones as one of their own for his cunning and tricks. It is said that he is the harbinger of the Great Betrayal, where he used the trust the Creators bore for him to lock them in the heavens and used the trust the Forgotten Ones gave him to lock them in the abyss. Thus, preventing either side from interacting with the mortal world. This is why the Creators were not able to intervene and prevent the fall of Arlathan, the fall of the elves."

She paused for a moment. "This is why the Dalish fear the Dread Wolf, using his name for curses and stories to scare children into behaving. It is said now that he is a bringer of nightmares and will seek you out in dreams, trying to trick you."

"The Dalish have a tendency to place too much value in legends, mistaking them for history," Solas said, coldly.

"Exactly right," Numina agreed. "And they do not accept anything else other than what they are told. They do not think and they do not interpret. I made the mistake of being different." She saw Solas raise an eyebrow. "Legends say that the Creators were at war with the Forgotten Ones, if that is the case… Tell me, what do you think would happen to everyone else if those with godly powers waged a war?"

"They'd get crushed like ants," Bull grumbled.

"The Dalish believed that Fen'Heral did not care about the People." Numina stopped and took in a deep breath. "But I believe that he cared more for the Elvhen than the others, perhaps even more than Mythal the protector, locking up his own kin to save the People from a war between gods." She looked between the other's faces. "I shared my opinion once with someone I thought was a friend, the Keeper's apprentice; and I paid the price for thinking differently. I am called harellan by some because they believed I was tricked by Fen'Harel into thinking him a hero instead the evil trickster he is." Numina's last sentence was laced with mocking sarcasm.

There was a small moment of silence before Cole spoke up. "They're wrong about you. You care more than they realize, like Fen'Harel. You're not a traitor. You're a savior."

Numina chuckled nervously. "Thank you, I think." She did not realize that his last few words were not only meant for her. Cole nodded before vanishing.

"I'll take first watch," Iron Bull said, rising to his feet. He wasn't quite sure what to say.

As Bull's steps grew fainter, Solas turned o Numina. "Cole is right, you know."

"Maybe, but it does not necessarily help that he is. It will not change the opinions harbored against me."

"Perhaps not, but they can help you see the truth," his grey eyes holding hers. "Tel'harellan, Numina. You care more about your family and friends than most."

"Thank you," she breathed, laying herself on her bedroll.

"Sleep well," Solas said quietly.

"Only if you are there," Numina murmured.

Solas hesitated. Numina's words had shaken him. He believed that none of the Dalish could ever come to think of Fen'Heral as anything less than a monster. Yet, here was a Dalish who showed a wisdom and logic interpreted from old legends that had long since been abused as the truth. Learning of the beliefs held on Fen'Heral many years ago had wounded Solas greatly. That truth could be manipulated so greatly and easily… But Numina proved that there was still a shred of hope for the People, that they were not all lost to ignorant tradition. She gave him hope, her wisdom gave him hope. Solas could not help but admire her.

With a lighter heart, Solas closed his eyes, listening to the lulling sounds of the storm. Slipping into the Fade, Solas found her in a dream and joined her willingly, no longer fearful of growing to attached to her.

~~.O.~~

Author's Note:

And another chapter down. Please let me know what you guys think with how I'm doing things. I am always looking for ways to improve.

Other than that, thank you for reading and I hope you are enjoying the story so far.


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